Male Driven Fact Based Logic?
by Breezi
Summary: Difficult to say...you'll just have to read and find out! LisaJackson.
1. Prologue

**Author's Note: **My first _Red Eye _fic and I really loved the movie, so please review and tell me how I'm doing. )

**Male Driven Fact Based Logic?**

**Prologue:**

Jackson

He had thought about nothing but her for the entire time that he had laid handcuffed to that damn hospital bed. He had had a lot of time to think about her. He thought about the curls of her shiny auburn hair, the smooth creamy color of her skin, the seductive shape of her slender neck. He remembered seeing that scar and how he had felt when he saw it. The thought that someone had done that to her had bothered him more than it should have, so he had instinctively shaken the feeling away. Then, she had told him the story of what had caused it. Knowing that a man had violated her in that way had filled him with such a murderous rage that it had taken all his effort to keep his voice from shaking when he spoked to her.

Then she had stabbed him in the throat with a pen.

To say that that had pissed him off would be an understatement, and when he chased her through the airport and went to her house he had had every intention of killing her. Slowly. Brutally. Messily. But Lisa Reisert was a fiesty little thing and he was man enough to admit that she had kicked his ass three ways from Sunday. She had figured out his weakness and gone for the jugular. Literally and figuratively. She had know that he was there for her on a personal agenda. He had let anger fuel his thinking and it had made him act foolishly. And his punishment for his rash behavior had been a punctured lung, two shattered ribs, a pump sized hole in his thigh, and several bruises from a field hockey mallet as well as the aforementioned pen through the windpipe. Hell hath no fury, huh.

As soon as he had been well enough, he had picked the lock of the handcuffs, broken his guard's neck, and walked out of the hospital. He needed to lay low for a while and heal completely. Then, he was thinking he would go and pay Lisa a little visit. Maybe even follow through on that whole stealing her idea. Sweet little Lisa. He wondered how she was doing.

He couldn't figure out the best way to describe his feelings for Lisa. It was more than revenge. He wanted to hurt her, but he wanted to hold her just as badly. He couldn't really call it lust, though there was no shortage of that when he thought about her body pressed up against his own. He refused to even consider the possibility of calling it love. He didn't even know whether or not he believed in the word. Obsession. Maybe that was the best way to put it. He had watched her for those eight weeks. He had learned her routine, her likes, her dislikes, her pet peeves. He had been in her apartment. He knew what posistion she slept most comfortable in. He knew that she washed her sheets every three days. He knew what drawer she kept her panties in. The lacy black tango cut ones from Victoria's Secret were his favorites. Yes, obsession was the best way to describe what he felt for Lisa. He wanted her. He wanted her for himself.

He often found himself thinking back to when he had her pinned to the wall in that tiny little airplane bathroom. He could still smell her sweet perfume. If he concentrated really hard, he could still feel her soft little body squirming against him. He had told her not to fight him, but in truth, he didn't mind so much. In fact, the entire time he had her pressed against that wall he had had to reprimand himself in his mind to keep from getting...too excited. She was too beautiful, too vulnerable, and it would have been too easy. The scary part was that when he was in there with her, there was one point that she had looked at him...and he would have been willing to swear that she had been feeling the exact same as he had been. That had nearly done him in. He had had to make himself hurt her in order to get his mind back on the task at hand. There had been something in her eyes at that moment that had seemed to ask him something. What had it been that she wanted, though? Protection? Comfort? Himself? He didn't know, but what really bothered him was that he wanted to.

There was only one answer to his problems. He wanted Lisa. No. He needed Lisa. He closed his eyes and leaned back in his seat as the plane prepared for takeoff. Some people wouldn't be able to bring themselves to get on a plane again after an experience such as the one he and Lisa had had. He wasn't that kind of person. He shifted into a comfortable posistion and let his mind wonder to Lisa and what she was doing right at that moment.

Lisa

Lisa couldn't sleep. She hadn't slept in what felt like ages. But, it hadn't been for the reasons everyone seemed to think it was. She wasn't tormented by nightmares or delusions of Jackson Rippner coming to get her, though every time she closed her eyes she saw his. Those clear blue pools that had charmed her, seduced her, terrified her to her very core, and never lied to her. Jackson had incredibly honest eyes. He was an honest person all things considered. When she met him in the check in line, she thought it wasn't possible for someone's smile to be as dazzling as his and that they should be blessed with those eyes as well. As the evening progressed, she had learned that those pretty eyes could be just as cold as they were bright. She could still remember his face when she had opened the bathroom door. At first his expression had been what could best be described as smug, his eyes glowing with humor. Then, he had looked over at the mirror, or more accurately what she had written on the mirror. She had watched the laughter in those eyes melt away and be replaced with a rage like she had never seen before in her life.

But there had been one moment in that very same bathroom when his eyes had seemed almost...tender. She could have fallen in love with him in that moment. His blue eyes soft and compassionate, his voice low and soothing as his thumb traced gently over the scar on her chest. When he had looked up from that scar, he had looked at her with a certain protectiveness that she hadn't been expecting. But she had been unprepared for that and she said "no". She rejected his protection and soon found herself slammed into the opposite wall with his hands around her neck, cutting off her oxygen supply.

When she had found out about Keefe's family and commented on it, she had seen something clear as day on his face. Regret. He had kept his profile to her, which she had learned was something that he did not do. His unflinching stare was a weapon he had mastered and he used it with abundance. He knew that he was showing signs of weakness by showing that he had a conscience, and Lisa knew well enough to know that he was not going to just hand that kind of leverage over to her willingly.

Then there had been the moment that she had told him about that horrible afternoon and what that creep had done to her and he had stared at her with a kind of awe. His handsome face had been the picture of concern as he muttered that comforting phrase in a voice that would have hushed a baby's crying. It has been the hardest thing she had ever done when she made her next move. To be that brutal was not something that was in her nature, but especially not when the person, Jackson Rippner or not, was being so incredibly compassionate. But she had done it because she had known that it was the only thing that she could do at the time.

That had been the last softness of character she had seen in Jackson Rippner until the moment she stood over him after her father had shot him. At first, he had looked up at her with a scathing gaze that screamed bloody murder. But, as she looked down at him, his expression had changed. His face relaxed and she would have sworn on her life that he had smiled at her.

It was those four moment and the hour or so before they boarded the plane that haunted Lisa and kept her from sleep. It was the thought that if circumstances had been different, she could have easily been happy with Jackson Rippner.

It had been a year and a half since that incident on the plane and she had moved on with her life the best that she could. She had thrown herself headfirst back into her work once she had been cleared of any wrong doing and gotten herself certified to carry mace. Every other aspect of her life had stayed pretty much the same. She didn't go out and socialize, though she had started going to dinner once a week with Cynthia, who had turned out to be a pretty good friend to have around. She still woke up in the middle of the night with a craving for scrambled eggs and her drink of choice was still a seabreeze, though she would probably never let another man buy her one for as long as she lived.

What distressed her more than anything else was that Jackson had been able to get her to open up to him, which was something that no man had been able to do since her rape and no man had been able to do it again. Something about him had charmed her that day and it was still with her. She missed him. How sick was that? She missed the man who had beaten her senseless, held her father hostage, and tried to force her into helping him and whoever it was that he worked for to murder an innocent family. Issues. Issues didn't even begin to cover her and her relationships. But, in a way, she had a bond with Jackson that nobody else would ever be able to even touch.

Maybe she was truly deranged, but some nights she would just lie in her bed and think about the 'what if's and the 'might have been's that could have turned into her life had Jackson not been the sadistic assassin that he had turned out to be. What if he had been Jackson Rippner, lawyer...or cook...or accountant...something stupid and boring like that? Would she have given him her number? She thought about his charming attitude at the Tex Mex and immediately knew the answer to that question. Yes. She would have given it to him in a heartbeat had he asked. Other nights, she chided herself for being so silly and dwelling on things that would never be true. Then some nights, she wondered what she would do if she ever saw him again.

Every night ended with the same conclusion. The next morning, she would get up, go to work, stay hours longer than needed, and come home and start the vicious cycle all over again. It was her life in the day to day. That was how she had always survived. Female driven emotion based reactions to everything.


	2. Chapter One: Somebody's Watching Me

**Author's Note: **Since I forgot it earlier, for the record, I do not own anything or anyone from _Red Eye_. If I did...I'd have Cillian Murphy's number and life would be much sweeter.

**Male Driven Fact Based Logic?**

**Chapter One: Somebody's Watching Me**

Lisa sat on her sofa in her sweats and socks with a bowl of cornflakes on her lap. She was watching late night infomercials about workout equipment and juicers. She wrapped her hair into a messy bun at the nape of her neck and looked around her apartment. She wasn't exactly living what they call the dream. Her apartment was simple but she thought classy. It had a huge fluffy white sofa with a matching chair, a glass coffee table with matching end tables on either side of the couch and a decent sized flat screen TV and really soft carpet. The kitchen took up the other half of the room and contained all the necessary appliances. Toaster, microwave, coffeemaker; everything a girl needs to get by on her own. She even spoiled herself with a few unnecessary items, such as the wok that hung unused above the island in the middle of the kitchen. The other side of the apartment was devoted to her bedroom and extremely large bathroom. The tub was her favorite invention in the history of inventions. She knew that her existence was what most people considered the very definition of the word boring, but it was hers and no one else controlled it. That was what was important; maintaining control of things. If she had control of things, then nothing could surprise her. She flipped off the television and dumped her empty bowl in the kitchen sink, telling herself that she would wash it in the morning. She had to start getting ready for work in about two hours and she hadn't been to bed yet. She went to her bedroom and crawled under the covers, hoping that she could close her eyes for at least part of those two hours.

It seemed her eyes had been closed for five minutes and the alarm was screeching angrily at her to wake up. She rubbed the sleep out of her puffy eyes and literally fell out of her bed. She groaned as she pushed herself up from the floor and stumbled to the bathroom, where she hopped in the shower. As soon as the warm water hit her in the face, it was like an instant wake up. The water streamed over her body, rejuvenating her for another day, gently massaging the tension knots out of her muscles. She had the strong desire to lie down at the bottom of the tub and just let the spray knead her sore back muscles for the rest of the day, but she knew she couldn't. So instead, she washed and conditioned her hair, shaved her legs, and turned the water off. As she stepped out of the shower, reaching for her towel, she heard a clang come from the kitchen and froze where she stood. Without thinking she wrapped herself in the towel and grabbed the only thing nearby that could even vaguely pass for a weapon: a plunger.

She quietly made her way out of the bathroom and peaked around the corner into the living room and kitchen half of the apartment. She didn't see anyone, but that didn't mean anything. She suppressed the urge to call out 'hello', because if anyone was there she would rather catch them by surprise than let them know she was about to jump out from around the corner. She took a breath, stepped out from behind the wall and found herself face to face with...nothing. There was nobody there. She was being, for lack of a better word, paranoid. With another groan, she smacked herself in the head and went back into the bathroom.

After a good hour of grooming, she was dressed in a lavender pinstriped business dress suit, her hair was rolling along her shoulders in soft waves, and she wore her Prada power heels. She downed a mug of coffee in less than thirty seconds and was out the door, juggling her purse, cell phone, and keys. She made her way down to the parking garage, mace in hand, and as she walked to her Honda Civic. She couldn't shake the feeling that she was being stared at. Unnerved, she felt her grip involuntarily tighten on the canister of mace. Her Prada's clip-clopped as she walked through the deserted parking garage. Parking lots in and of themselves made her anxious, but enclosed ones really freaked her out now. Her walk evolved into a canter, which then broke into a full fledged run for her car. As soon as she was in her car with the doors locked, she let out the breath that she didn't know she was holding. As she turned the key in the ignition, she made a promise to herself that she was going to start parking on the street.

Before she knew it, she was at work. The Miami traffic hadn't been bad at all that morning, which wasn't that odd considering rush hour wasn't for another hour. She parked and got out of the car and there was that feeling again. She glanced over her shoulder, searching the dark parking lot for any sign of a person. No one. She shook it off and continued toward the door. The feeling in her stomach that someone was watching her just got stronger, so she actually stopped and turned a full circle. She still saw no one.

"Oh, get a grip, Leese." she said to herself, running a hand through her hair and turning back to the hotel.

She spotted Cynthia as soon as she walked through the door. The poor girl had been there for two hours without Lisa. She was talking to one of their guys from maintenance and she looked like she was ready to pull her hair out. She had gotten a lot better at dealing with things in the past year, but sometimes she just had off days. Lisa widened her stride and broke into the two's conversation.

"What's up?" she asked.

"Oh, thank God, Lisa." Cynthia exclaimed, latched on to Lisa's forearms, "Brad says that 6018 has locked his self in the room and won't let his wife inside."

"Why not?" Lisa said.

"Well," Brad, the maintenance man answered her, "he keeps screaming at her that she slept with his brother or somethin'. He's bein' real loud and wakin' up pretty much everyone on the floor. I was just tellin' Cynthia that if we don't handle this soon, you're gonna have an entire sixth floor to apologize to by mornin'."

"all right. I'm on it." Lisa smiled, "Let's go, Cynthia."

She dropped her purse in her locker and started toward the elevator with Cynthia scampering after her. It was the start of a very long, very tiring day. It had taken Lisa and Cynthia two hours to calm down the domestic dispute in 6018. Lisa had had to do the thing that she never wanted to do, which was resort to threatening to throw them out of the hotel and ask them never to return. The problem was taken care of, everyone was had been woken up had been apologized to, and 6018 was cutting their vacation short.

At noon, a short tan young man with long blond hair who looked like he would rather be surfing came strutting through the front doors of the hotel. He carried a large bouquet of long stemmed white roses to the front desk and stared at Lisa, waiting for her to speak first.

"Room number?" she asked.

"Don't got a room number." the boy said, slapping a clipboard down on the counter.

Lisa resisted the urge to correct his grammar and smiled at him instead. "Do you have a name?"

"Yeah."

"well, will you tell me what it is?" Lisa asked at the same time Cynthia came out from around the corner.

The boy let out a long sigh as if she had just asked him to carry a load of bowling balls up fifteen flights of stairs and picked up the clipboard. "Yeah, it's, uh, Lisa Reisert."

Lisa unconsciously straightened her stance. "I'm sorry?"

"Lisa Reisert, geez." the boy repeated.

"That's me." Lisa informed the boy, casting him a glance like he was stupid.

The boy looked like he wanted to choke. He had apparently just realized that any shot he had for a tip had just disappeared. "Oh. Well, these are for you." He handed her the clipboard, "Sign here."

Lisa scribbled her name and grabbed the flowers from him. She watched the towheaded boy until he was all the way out of the hotel before searching through the bouquet for a card.

"Well, look who's special." Cynthia cooed, moving to stand beside Lisa. She leaned in to smell one of the pretty flowers. "Who are they from?"

"I don't know." Lisa said slowly, still searching for the card. She spotted the little white rectangle and managed to get it out and avoid scratching her hand on any of the thorns. She pulled the card out of its little envelope and read the two words that were scribbled on it.

_Just because._

"That's weird." she said.

"What is?" Cynthia asked.

"There's no name." Lisa said, handing her the card.

Cynthia examined the front and back of the card and replied, "Huh. That is weird."

Lisa smiled suddenly, "They're probably from dad just trying to con me into dinner or something."

Cynthia grinned, "Awe. That's sweet."

"Yeah." Lisa said, still beaming, "I'll call him at lunch and thank him."

She never got the chance to call her dad...or go to lunch for that matter. At the last minute, a pro baseball team had decided that they wanted to stay there for the weekend and she had had to bust her ass to find rooms for them all on such short notice. She had done some major shuffling, but she had worked it out in the end.

It was 10:13 p.m. and Lisa was leaned against the front desk, braced on her elbows with her feet lifted into the air. The Pradas looked fabulous, but they were hell on her ankles. She made a decision and kicked them off. She was standing behind the desk, so other than the sudden decline in height, no one would ever notice. It had been one of those days where she just didn't care. The phone rang and a low growl escaped her throat before she picked it up and spoke in her fake chipper voice.

"Lux Atlantic Hotel, this is Lisa. What can I do for you, today?"

"_Yes, Lisa. I was just wondering what time your check in was._"

Lisa got that strange feeling that she was being watched again. "Sir, our check in begins at one p.m."

"_How late can I check in_?"

"Normally, we discourage anyone from checking in after midnight, but special arrangements can be made."

"_See the thing is, my plane got delayed so I won't be able to be there until around two thirty_."

"All right, may I have the name your reservation is under?"

"_Jackson_."

Her heart stopped, "I beg your pardon."

"_Jackson. Clint Jackson._"

She breathed. "Of course, Mr. Jack...Jackson. Here you are right here. So, I will either personally be here when you arrive to check in or I will leave a message with the night concierge."

"_Great. And, what's your name again_?"

"Lisa Reisert. I'm the hotel manager."

"_Fabulous. Thank you, dear._"

"Not at all, sir." she preferred to say sir, "Is there anything else I can help you with tonight?"

"_Uh, no. I don't believe so. Knowing that I won't lose my reservation is more than enough. Thank you, again, Lisa._"

"Of course, sir. You have a good night." The line went dead and she gratefull hung up the phone. She sighed and ran both hands over her face and back through her hair, pausing at the nape of her neck to try and work out a cramp that had been forming throughout the day. Her eyes scanned the hotel lobby. It was basically deserted, with just a few people coming in from late nights out around the city or on the beach. She had always preferred working late hours. It was more peaceful with nowhere near as many complaints and problems to deal with. But, tonight, she just couldn't shake the feeling that she had had all day. Every time she walked around a corner, she had half expected someone to jump out at her. Of course, they never did. She felt jumpy and she hated feeling jumpy, especially when she was at work. She needed her mind to be clear so she could handle anything that came up.

Cynthia kissed Lisa on both cheeks and walked out the door at midnight to go home for some much deserved rest. She had gotten to the level now where she dealt with just as much as Lisa did herself and she had certainly earned her rest tonight.

"Bye, Cynthia. Safe drive." she called after her friend.

"Yeah. Don't work too hard." Cynthia laughed.

"Yeah, right." Lisa called back to her, rolling her eyes.

Rodney, the night concierge was about two hundred years old. Actually, he was seventy-three and had once upon a time resembled Lurch from _The Adam's Family_. He was very tall and very lean with white tuffs of hair at the sides of his head just above his ears with a few stray strands atop his head, not enough that he even attempted a comb over. He was always dressed in crisp, perfectly creased suits and was more disciplined than a Marine drill instructor. There were constant pools going on throughout the hotel betting on what branch of the military he had served in. Marines, Army, Airforce; Lisa had her money on C.I.A. special forces. She loved Rodney. He was one of the few people at the hotel she could depend on to keep things going if she had something come up. If for no other reason than all the younger guys were terrified of him. He preferred the graveyard shift because there were less screaming kids passing through the lobby.

He stood behind the counter while Lisa made her rounds. Everything was peaceful, for once. People would be amazed at how much chaos went on in hotels at two in the morning. She clacked back down to the lobby, yelled to Rodney that she would be back in a minute and ran for the employee bathroom.

Rodney laughed to himself as he watched Lisa go breezing past him. The glass doors of the entrance slid open and a tall man in a nice suit came strutting in. He walked with condidence up to the counter. Rodney figured him for ex-military as well, the way he carried himself.

"Yes, sir?" Rodney asked.

"Yes, I need to check in."

"I'm sorry, sir, our check in ends at midnight."

"No." the man said, with a smile, "I spoke to a Lisa Reisert. She made special arrangements for me."

"Your name?"

"Jackson."

"I'll get her at once, sir." Rodney said and walked away from the counter. He went to the back and bumped into Lisa just as she was coming from the bathroom, drying her hands. "Leese, there's a Mr. Jackson waiting for you at the front."

For the second time that night, Lisa felt her heart stop beating. _Jackson! _She thought. Then, the phone call came back to her and she remembered the guest who needed the late check in. "Of course, yes." she said.

Rodney led her back out to the front desk. He stood in front of her so she could not see the customer. When they were actually back in the lobby, she came out from behind him with a wide welcoming smile plastered across her lips.

Standing there, staring back at her, was a tall prematurely balding man in his late thirties wearing a smart suit and small silver wire rimmed glasses. "Hello, Mr. Jackson. I'm Lisa Reisert. Welcome to the Lux Atlantic, did you have a nice flight?"

"Once we were actually flying, yes, it was all right." Clint Jackson said, returning her smile.

"Great," she tapped at a few keys on the computer, "I've got you all set up here. So, of I could just make a copy of your credit card, we can get you into a room for some sleep."

"That would be excellent." Clint Jackson responded, handing her a credit card from his wallet.

Lisa scanned it into the computer and logged him into the system. "All right, there we go. You're in room..." her speech faltered, "uh, you're in room 4080. Here's your key." She was struggling to keep the smile on her face, "If you know you'll be requiring breakfast from room service, they'll be accepting pre-orders for the next thirty minutes. Otherwise we have three lovely restaurants for you to choose from. Here's your credit card and Stuart, our bellhop will be up shortly with your bags. I hope you enjoy your stay with us, sir. You know my name, so if you need anything, you just let me know."

"Thank you, very much, Ms. Reisert." Clint Jackson said, smiling before he vanished into the elevator.

Lisa leaned back into the wall for support, covering her mouth with one trembling hand. She was worried that if she tried to stand by herself she would fall. That had simply been too much for her to handle. Granted, room 4080 had been completely remodeled and no longer came close to resembling the room it had once been, but it was still room 4080. Lisa felt her eyes welling up. Her state of obvious distress gained Rodney's notice and he was instantly at her side.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" he asked.

Lisa hurriedly wiped the tears away from her cheeks and sniffed, "Nothing. Nothing. It's...it's just been a really long day."

"Okay, it's all right." Rodney said, rubbing her arm comfortingly, "you go on home, okay, honey? You go get some rest. I can handle things here. You don't need to be here this late. Okay?"

"Yeah." Lisa nodded, "Yeah, Rodney. You know what, that sounds like a good idea. Thank you."

She pulled herself together as best she could, straightened from the wall, and after gathering her things, she ran to her car and sped the whole way back to her apartment.


	3. Chapter Two: Hallucinating

**Author's Note: **Thanks for all the great reviews everyone! But, I refuse to reveal anything about where I'm going with this story, so you'll just have to keep reading to find out. Also, if you feel that I'm slacking in any way, let me know!

**Chapter Two: Hallucinating**

When she had gotten home last night, Lisa had been thankful that she wouldn't have to be back at the hotel until eight the next morning. She had come in, kicked off her shoes, and settled onto the sofa with a pint of some Ben&Jerry's Marsha Marsha Marshmallow. But, as she blinked open her eyes, using her hand to shield them from the sunlight pouring in through the bay window, she decided that morning had come far too soon and she just didn't feel like getting up out of bed. Yesterday had been hell and she couldn't foresee today being any better. But, having the work ethic that her father had instilled in her since birth, she grudgingly climbed out of bed, muttering swear words under her breath the entire time. Her eyes still half closed, Lisa let out a squeak when she tripped over the rug at the foot of her bed. On the way down she banged her right elbow on her wooden hope chest and landed on the floor with a loud thud.

"Ow!" she whined, sitting up and cupping her hand over her injured arm which had already begun to turn purple. She eyed the bruise and then fell back to the floor with an exasperated sigh. She had been wrong before. Today wasn't going to be just as bad as yesterday...it was already worse. With tremendous effort, she managed to pick herself up off the floor and limp into the bathroom.

She pinned her hair up to keep it from getting wet and stepped into the shower just to help wake her up. After she had washed her face and brushed her teeth and secured her hair into a very professional pop-knot at the back of her head, she paused and stared at herself in the mirror. She just didn't think she had the energy for work today.

"Suck it up, Leese." she whispered, looking her reflection in the eyes and plastering an accommodating smile on her face.

After trying on three different outfits, one made her look like she had a flat ass, one made her look bloated, the third made her calves look huge, she finally settled on a simple black shin length skirt and a white camisole under a black short cut dress blazer along with a pair of black sling-back pumps that were much more comfortable that those damn Pradas. She was running a bit behind so she had to forego her usual cup of coffee until she got to the hotel, which was bad news for her fellow highway drivers. Purse slung over shoulder, keys in hand, and cell phone antenna clenched between her teeth, Lisa raced out the door.

She had been right to feel sorry for the other drivers on the road. In less than five minutes on the ramp, she had cut three people off, tailgated one bitch who had cut in front of her and then slowed down, and nearly sideswiped a minivan. She was late, her head was pounding, her elbow was throbbing, and she wanted to crawl back into bed and pretend that this day had never started...and it was only ten till eight! She was becoming an expert on bad days.

When she finally pulled into the hotel after what felt like an hour in the worst traffic jam she had ever seen in her life, she wanted to go to the back room, sit down with a steaming cup of coffee, and relax for just five minutes. Coffee. If she could just get some coffee in her system she would be fine.

Sadly, that was not to happen. As soon as she walked through the doors she was greeted by the sound of a Mr. and Mrs. Berks griping about the hotel room. She immediately switched into manager mode and stepped up beside the desk clerk, Kimberly. Kimberly was about eighteen years old and five seconds from cracking under the scrutiny of the Berks.

"Hi, I'm Lisa Reisert, the hotel manager. Is there something I can do for you?" she asked. Kimberly looked at her with wide terrified eyes. "Kimberly, Cynthia wa just looking for you in the back, so you go on and I'll handle this."

Kimberly nodded gratefully and then, as though she were trying out for the Olympics, set off in a dead sprint for the employee lounge.

"Yes." Mr. Berks boomed, "we specifically reserved a double room and that little girl gave us a single and said that there are no double rooms available right now. Now, we have our grandchildren here with us and..."

"Exactly!" Mrs. Berks chimed in, "They're very young and can't be put in a separate room from us. So, what are we supposed to do?"

"Or better yet," Mr. Berks decided to finish up, "What are you gonna do about it?"

Lisa continued to smile at them, though their voices sounded like nails on a chalkboard in her aching head. "I am so sorry for the mix up, Mr. and Mrs. Berks. Kimberly's only been her for a week and a half, I'm sure she didn't mean to upset you. Let me see what I can do."

"Finally, someone around this place with a little intelligence!" Mr. Berks exclaimed, gesturing wildly with his arms.

Lisa pulled up her crisis file and found a double room for them. She always had a handful set aside for occasions such as these. She moved them to the room and scanned in their keycards. "All right. I've got you in room 2323. It had a balcony with an extraordinary view of the beach and two queen size beds. Here's the key to the mini bar which is gonna be on us for the duration of your stay. Our bellhop will have your bags up shortly. Again, my name is Lisa so if you need anything at all you just let me know. Sorry, once again for the inconvenience and I hope you enjoy your star here at the Lux Atlantic."

"Well, thank you very much, Lisa." Mr. Berks said, "What the hell would this place do without you?" He took their keys then he, his wife, and two bratty looking little overweight kids piled into the elevator.

"Lisa?" Cynthia said emerging from the back, "Kimberly just told me that the Berks were up her complaining."

"Yeah, they wanted a double and got a single." Lisa said, massaging her temples.

"That miserable old wank!" Cynthia snapped, "I booked that reservation myself and he only asked for a single!"

She kept going on but Lisa had tuned her out. She thought she had just seen someone turn the corner with...dark hair and...nah. She leaned to her right trying to peer around the corner and squinted her eyes to get a better look. Nothing. She rubbed her eyes and yawned into her hand. She needed to start getting more sleep, she was hallucinating. She returned her attention back to the still fuming Cynthia. "Oh, well." she said, "What's done is done."

"Hey?" Cynthia asked stepping up and rubbing Lisa's back, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just need a..." she was cut off by the phone screaming at her, which she picked up on instinct more than anything else. "Lux Atlantic, the is Lisa."

"_Hello, Lisa. May I speak to the manager, please_?"

"That would be me, ma'am. What can I do for you?"

"_This is Margaret Lawsard in 5210 and my key has stopped working._"

"The key to your door has stopped working?" Lisa asked.

"_Yes. This is the fifth time this has happened to us in the past three days._"

"Okay. Are you at your door right now?"

"_Yes._"

"All right, wait one minute Mrs. Lawsard and I'll be right up."

"_Fine._"

The line went dead. Lisa hung up the phone and let her head drop to the desk with a groan. "Cynthia, get Bill on the horn and tell him to get up to 5210 as soon as he can. I'll be up there waiting for him." She lifted her head, "God, I need a cup of coffee!"

With that, Lisa started walking toward the elevator but she saw a flash from the corner of her eye and stopped. She turned and scanned the direction that she thought she had seen it, then shook her mind clear and moved to the elevators. She paid attention to her peripheral vision as she swiped her card to gain access to the employee elevator right up to the point she stepped in and rode up to the fifth floor. The doors slid open with a ding and she made her way down the brightly colored corridor in the direction of 5210. When she rounded the corner, she found herself staring at a woman with platinum blonde hair up in a beehive on top of her head clad in a small black tank top that showed her stomach and skin tight cheetah print pants, black stilettos, and thick black sunglasses with rhinestones decorating the edges. Her skin was too tan and wrinkled and leathery from lying in the tanning bed too much and she was popping her bubble gum as loud as humanly possible. The blonde was standing beside a squat little man who was as wide as he was tall with curly black hair, bushy black eyebrows, a mustache to match and a five o'clock shadow. He wore a green polo shirt over yellow athletic shorts that showed off his pasty white legs and loafers with no socks. What a pair. The thought went through Lisa's mind and she had to make a conscious effort not to roll her eyes at them.

"Hello." Lisa chimed, "I am so sorry about all of this." Her job consisted of saying the phrase 'I am so sorry' about a thousand times a day. "May I see you keys?" They each handed her a plastic card which she then stuffed into her blazer pocket. "All right, I'm going to try to unlock the door for you with my master key and I've got one of our maintenance men on the way up to take a look at the door and see if he can't figure out why it keeps demagnetizing your cards." She explained, taking out her own key and swiping it through the door. It unlocked almost instantly.

The man, Mr. Lawsard rushed through the door and into the bathroom, slamming it closed as he entered. Mrs. Lawsard popped a bubble at Lisa as she walked past her into the room. "Um, I hate to have to advise this, but until we've figured out the problem with the door and whether or not it can be fixed, I would recommend that you don't both leave the room at the same time."

"Well, that's just great, sweetie!" Mrs. Lawsard blared at her, "What the hell are we supposed to do then, huh?"

"I'm very sorry, ma'am, but if we don't know whether or not we've fixed the problem then our best course of action will be to move you to another room for the rest of your stay here."

"Oh good Lord, girly, what kinda place are you runnin' here?" Mrs. Lawsard continued, pulling a tiny bottle of gin out of the mini bar and unscrewing the cap.

Lisa turned so that she was facing away from the door and thankfully she saw Bill coming down the way toward her. Bill was 5'1, 5'2 at best, stocky with a buzz cut and an earring and was missing one of his front teeth. There was no one from maintenance that she trusted more.

"Bill, I apologize." Lisa said, walking up to him.

"What for?" Bill asked.

"oh, you'll see." Lisa said taking him over to the door. "The keypad keeps demagnetizing the keycards and I have no idea why. See what you can do about that and..." she lowered her voice to a whisper, "watch out for the blonde."

Bill cocked an eyebrow questioningly and Lisa made a drinking motion with her hand. "Oh." Bill said, "Great. What have you gotten me into?"

"Look on the bright side." Lisa said as she started to walk away.

"What bright side?" Bill called after her.

Lisa spun around and walked backwards, "You don't have to deal with them all day...like me."

"You're right." Bill laughed, "That is a bright side."

Lisa stepped out of the elevator back into the lobby and smiled when she got to the reception desk. Sitting on top of the counter was a Starbucks cup marked: _Lisa R_. She snatched it up and took a sip, practically purring as the warm liquid slid down her throat. It was perfect. Light cream and sugar, just the way she liked it. The pounding in her ears stopped almost immediately. Cynthia emerged from behind the counter and Lisa enveloped the girl in a hug.

"Cynthia, my dear, you are a saint!" she said.

"Why?" Cynthia asked.

"For getting me this wonderful coffee!" Lisa answered taking another sip.

Cynthia stared at her blankly, "But, I didn't."

Lisa froze and looked at her, licking a few stray drops from her bottom lip. "But, then who..." she pointed at the cup in her hand and scanned the hotel lobby. "Ah, who cares?" she said and took another huge gulp.

"Lisa!" Cynthia scolded:That't worse than taking candy from a stranger."

"Oh, leave me alone. It's good and I really, really need it."

Cynthia couldn't help but laugh as she went to check to see if the bar was ready to open. Lisa finished off her coffee and repositioned herself behind the front desk. The rest of the day went pretty much like Lisa had thought it would. She'd been called up to the eighth floor to reprimand the members of the baseball team she had worked extremely hard to place because they were being rowdy and kept getting fresh with the maids. One of them had tried to grab her ass and she had smacked his hand away and threatened to not only kick them all out of the hotel, but file sexual harassment suits against every single one of them. She hadn't heard a peep from them since. There was the toilet that had overflowed on the fifth floor, the group of Japanese tourists who had thought that Cynthia was their tour guide, the three year old who had tried to rip her earring out of her ear, and the sixty year old woman who had had an allergic reaction to something in one of her salads and had to be carted away in an ambulance.

10:00 p.m. rolled around and Lisa was sitting in the back checking over some kitchen orders when Rebeccam, one of the girls who worked the front counter came back.

"Lisa?" she said hesitantly.

Lisa jumped from surprise, then looked at her. "Yes! I mean, yes?"

"I'm sorry to bother you..."

"Don't be silly, Rebecca. What do you need?"

"I just got off the phone with a Mr. Jackson in room 4080..."

"Mmmhmm."

"He's had to send back his room service order three times."

"You're kidding." Lisa said standing up and throwing her checklist onto the table.

"Afraid not. He finally just asked to speak with you."

"All right. Don't worry. I'll take care of it." she said giving the young girl a comforting squeeze on the shoulder and heading for the elevator.

She had just punched the 4 button when her cell phone rang. She flipped it open and pressed it to her ear without thinking twice. "Lisa Reisert."

"_Hey honey, it's me_."

"Hey, dad." Lisa said, genuinely smiling for maybe the third time that day.

"_I just thought I'd call and see if you're up for a late dinner with the old man_?"

"God, I'd love to, but I don't think I can. it looks like I'm gonna be stuck here for the rest of the night."

"_You work too hard_."

"Yeah, yeah."

"_It's not healthy_."

"Hey, I learned it from you." she laughed as the elevator doors opened and she stepped through them, "Oh! I meant to call you yesterday to thank you for the flowers. They're gorgeous!"

"_What flowers_?"

"The...the ones you sent me."

"_Sweetheart, I didn't send you any flowers_."

On instinct Lisa spun on her heel to duck back into the elevator, but the doors had just closed. "Seriously?"

"_I swear. Lisa, are you okay_?"

"Y-yeah." she said as she scanned to the left and right of her.

"_Are you sure_?"

"I'm fine, dad. I just...I gotta go deal with this customer right now. I'll call you right back."

"_All right, sweetheart. I love you_."

"I love you, too, daddy. Buh-bye." she flipped the phone closed without waiting for her father's response. She spun a full circle taking in both sides of the long hallway which all of the sudden seemed much too quiet. She took a breath and headed for room 4080. It was simple. She would just check on Clint Jackson and get the hell back down to the lobby. Simple.

If it was all so simple then why was her heart beating at about five thousand miles per second. She stopped in front of the hotel room door and just stood there staring at it. She took a minute to steady her breathing back to a normal rhythm and then quickly tapped on the door before she could change her mind. She heard the chain bolt unlock and watched as the doorknob started to turn. Her heart was pounding so hard she thought that it was going to beat its way right out of her chest. The door swung open and there stood Clint Jackson, smiling at her from behind those tiny silver spectacles.

"Hello again, Ms. Reisert. I'm sorry, I'm being so difficult." He apologized.

"Not at all, Mr. Jackson." She tried not to choke on the name, but her breathing had returned to normal. "Now, what seems to be the problem?"

"Well, it's really just the simplest little error, but over and over and over. Since you took such good care of me last night, I just figured that maybe you could help me out with..." his gaze moved to just over her right shoulder, "Oh. I believe you know know my associate."

Lisa turned to look over her shoulder and found herself staring straight into a pair of crystal blue eyes that she would never in her life be able to forget. She opened her mouth with the intent to scream, but nothing would come out. She prayed that she was once again hallucinating. But, he was real.There, leaning on his hand which was braced against the wall and wearing a well tailored charcoal suit stood Jackson Rippner, that all too familiar cocky grin firmly on his lips.

"Hey, Leese."

**Author's Note: **Well? You must tell me right away what you think.


	4. Chapter Three: Here We Go Again

**Author's Note: **Wow! I cannot believe all the reviews! Thank you all so much for the support and feedback, it's greatly appreciated. I hope you like this chapter as well and if anyone thinks that I start slipping, be sure and let me know. Here's chapter three! Read on and review!

**Chapter Three: Here We Go Again**

"Hey, Leese." He said, tilting his head a little to the side and grinning. Her face was priceless. Her pretty grin eyes widened and sort of glazed over and her full mouth dropped open into the shape of a perfect 'O'.

Lisa stood there, feet frozen, her whole body trembling. She just kept telling herself that he wasn't real. Jackson Rippner was not standing in front of her with that damned smirk on his face. He was not absent mindedly drumming his fingers on the wall as if he hadn't a care in the world. He just wasn't there. She would close her eyes, count to five and when she opened them again, he would be gone. She did just that. When she reached five in her mind, she lifted her eyelids...and Jackson winked at her, the bastard.

"No." she breathed the word, so that he could barely hear it. Then, she made a break down the hall.

It hadn't taken Jackson three strides to catch up to her and get his arms around her waist. He jerked her to the side and slammed her against the wall. Lisa lost her grip on her cell phone and watched it go skidding down the hallway. She kicked her leg back and connected firmly with his shin. They both tumbled to the floor and rolled each other over a few times, each one fighting for the top position. Jackson of course overpowered her and wound up on top. Lisa did her best to kick at him and tried to knee him in the groin, but he quickly worked his legs in between her thighs and spread them, pinning her so that her lower body was of no use to her. Now, Lisa wasn't one to really use her upper body without a weapon of some kind because in all honesty, she knew that she was not the strongest person in the world but seeing that she had no other options, she slapped at his face and tried clawing at him. He deflected her blows easily and finally managed to capture her flailing arms, enveloping both of her wrists in one hand and pinning her arms above her head. Lisa opened her mouth to scream but he quickly clamped his free hand down on her throat and squeezed just hard enough to keep her silent. All that escaped from her lips was a strangled, gurgling gasp for breath.

Jackson leaned down so that his face was only a mere inches from hers and inhaled her scent. She smelled just as sweet as he had remembered; her skin was just as soft. He lowered his face a little more so that when he spoke his lips brushed against the shell of her ear as though he were telling her a lover's secret. "Shh...Leese. You don't want to get any of these nice people at your hotel hurt, do you?"

Lisa fought back the urge to cry with everything that she had in her, but it was a pointless battle. Soon enough, her eyes had welled up and the salty drops were freely overflowing.

"Bastard." she growled through clenched teeth with tears and mascara streaming down her flushed cheeks, "You bastard!"

She didn't want to cry in front of him, damn it! She struggled to get herself under control which was easier said than done when all she could feel was his body pressing down on her like a tomb.

Jackson feigned hurt giving her his best wounded look. "Lisa! Is that any way to greet an old friend?"

"Yeah, slamming them into the ground and choking them is a helluva lot better!" she rasped at him.

Jackson grinned. He reveled in the way she squirmed beneath his weight, causing friction between their bodies, unknowingly making this all the sweeter for him. Her hips wiggling against his pelvis, her thighs rubbing back and forth at his hips; he could have stayed in that position all day. He glanced down without even trying to hide the fact that he was looking down the front of her shirt, admiring the lacy pink bra she wore, catching the sight of that hateful scar and pushing down the instant burst of rage that came with it, drowning it down in the feeling of Lisa's chest pressing against his as she breathed. He then dragged his gaze back up to her eyes, sly grin firmly in place. "For old time's sake." He said.

He loosened his grip on her throat slightly so that she could actually speak as opposed to gasping. He wanted to hear what she had to say. He had almost forgotten how he enjoyed their banter.

"Room 4080?" she snapped, narrowing her eyes at him, "God _Jack,_ I didn't think you were that cheesy."

His temper flared up at the name, but he supressed it quickly. He leaned close to her again and nudged her nose with his own as he whispered, "I couldn't resist."

God, he was close. Too close. And he smelled too good. Lisa couldn't believe the thoughts that were going through her mind. They were sick, twisted, unnaturaly thoughts and for the first time she realized that maybe she should have given her father's suggestion of therapy a bit more consideration. She had to get her mind on something else, anything else!

"Who's the new lackey?" she asked nodding her head in the direction of the doorway.

"You killed my old dog, remember? I had to get a new one and they're so hard to train." Jackson replied, unconsciously massaging slow circular motions at her neck with his thumb.

Lisa looked away from him. Her gaze landed on 'Clint Jackson' who was propped against the door jam staring at her exposed thighs. She could feel his beady little eyes on her skin and it revolted her. She turned back to Jackson's burning gaze. "Well, tell your dog to stop ogling me."

Jackson's attention shifted to his associate and he saw the way the man was eyeing Lisa. A wave of anger and jealousy mixed with protectiveness washed over him and he stood at once, jerking Lisa to her feet along with him. He stealthily checked her out to make sure that her clothes had fallen back into place and that she was not exposing any unnecessary flesh. Most of her hair had come loose from her clip and was sticking up in wild, mesy tufts around her face. Jackson wanted to reach over and smooth it down, but he resisted. That was not where he needed to be concentrating at the current moment and time.

As soon as they stood, Lisa felt a quick shot of pain surge through her leg. She had rolled her ankle when Jackson had tackled her. Her balance shifted and she involuntarily rocked and was surprised when Jackson shifted his grip to her elbow to help steady her.

'Clint Jackson' moved to reach for her and Lisa instinctively took a step behind Jackson, who in turn tugged on her arm and actually pulled her a little further behind him as in protection. The gesture threw her off, but she shook the confusion away and focused on the problem at hand.

Jackson blocked Lisa with his body, fixing his comrade with his unflinching gaze. "Easy there, Mellmott."

'Clint Jackson' or Mellmott, spread his hands in submission. "I was just gonna to help you get her into the room, sir."

He had practically spat the word 'sir' and Lisa swore she could feel the tension between the two of them. They did not enjoy working together. He looked looked different somehow. When she had met him last night, he had seemed polite and sophisticated and intelligent like a business man, now he seemed nothing more than a common everyday thug in an overpriced suit. Something about him was very, very wrong. She could sense it now plain as day. How had she not picked up on it before?

"That won't be necessary." Jackson said, pulling Lisa out from behind him, dropping her wrist and placing his hand at the back of her neck instead. "Will it, Lisa?"

The way that the bulky Mellmott was looking at her made Lisa very uncomfortable. She had seen that look before. She would rather take her chances with Jackson any day than to tangle with that oaf. Besides that, something inside of her was telling her that Jackson would not let him hurt her as long as she played along. "No. It won't be necessary."

"Good girl." Jackson whispered in her ear and pushed her into the room in front of him. "Sit down." He commanded and shoved her toward the sofa in the middle of the suite.

Lisa complied with the command, but only so that she could have a look at her ankle. She didn't think it was broken or even sprained; she had just stressed it a bit. She glanced out of the corner of her eye over to where Jackson and Mellmott were standing, obviously in the middle of a very heated discussion.

"I think you should just let me deal with her, Rippner. After all, this is the same little girl nearly did you in." Mellmott said.

"I think you're forgetting why you're here." Jackson hissed.

Mellmott glared at him, "I know my job."

"Obviously not, otherwise you would remember that your job is to do what I say." Jackson said, his voice frighteningly calm, "Now get your ass downstairs and find me the times."

Mellmott spun around and stomped out the door like a petulant child who hadn't gotten his way, slamming the door closed as he left. Jackson let out a deep breath before turning toward Lisa, who looked away quickly trying to pretend that she hadn't just been eavesdropping.

Jackson walked toward her, spreading his hands out in a joking manner, charming smile on those perfect lips of his, "Good help, huh. You know, I had good help once...really miss that guy."

Lisa glared at him, then decided to play along. "What happened to him?" she asked, her voice shaky but defiant. She was determined to at least keep up all appearances of strength, even though she felt like jelly inside.

"An SUV rammed him into a house." Jackson answered, smile never faltering.

"How sad," Lisa said, lowering her voice to its sincerest depths, "Well, you know, sometimes bad things happen to good people."

"So I've heard." He retorted, sitting down next to her on the sofa.

"You're speaking very well. Not even a little rattle. Did it scar?" Lisa asked, pride evident in her voice as she saw the spark of anger flash in Jackson's eyes. She wanted to torment him as he had her.

"Did what scar?" he asked nonchalant.

"You know what." Lisa replied, "Come on, _Jack_. Let me see it."

Jackson's eyes bore into hers, into her very soul, then he licked his lips and leaned forward unbuttoning his collar. He held the top of his shirt open allowing Lisa to see the incredibly small circular mark at the base of his throat.

She tried to grin but it came out as more of a grimace, "Pretty."

"I like it." Jackson quipped, regaining his metaphorical footing, leaning back, draping an arm over the back of the couch, his other arm resting on his leg. He was the picture of relaxation. "Battle scars. The one on my thigh is better. Very resourceful by the way, I didn't see that one coming. Wanna see the bullet holse, too?"

"Can I make fresh ones?" Lisa countered, struggling to calm her shaking hands.

Jackson didn't answer. Instead he smiled and said, "Did you enjoy your coffee?"

"I'm sorry?"

"The coffee. Did I get it right? Three sugars and half a spoon of sweet cream, right?" he said, grinning as he watched understanding spread over her face.

"It was you." Lisa said.

"I just told you it was." Jackson laughed.

"Not just the coffee, but...the flowers, too."

"Flowers?"

"Yeah, flowers. The white roses you sent to me." Lisa said, scathing at him.

Jackson shook his head, "Hate to break your heart, Leese, but...I didn't send you any flowers."

"Don't lie to me!"

"Lisa, have I ever lied to you?"

Lisa thought about it and the truth was, no. He had inflicted horror after horror after horror on her, but he had always been honest about it.

She stared at him hard, "You didn't send me the flowers?"

Jackson shook his head. For the first time since he'd dragged her into the room, Lisa looked anxious. She started twisting her hands together in knots, her eyes darting from side to side as if she were trying to solve some puzzle in her head. She suddenly and sharply focused on him.

"Then who did?" she asked.

Whoever had sent her those flowers had freaked her out royally. He wanted to suggest that it could have been her father, but then he knew Lisa better than anybody else in the world and that's the first person she would have asked. Then he thought that maybe she had a secret admirer but he had been following her. There was somebody else out there following her, a professional. Someone like him. The thought came into his mind that his former employer may have sent someone to deal with her for botching up the Keefe job. It that was the case, then he didn't want her going anywhere out of his sight.

Lisa's chin quivered as she searched the room with her eyes, contemplating how to get to the phone without bringing him down on her. She could do this. She had gotten away from him once, by God, she could damn well do it again. "Why am I here?" she asked.

"I told you I might steal you." Jackson said, playing himself, making it seem as though he weren't pondering over the thought of her secret admirer.

"So you've come to collect?" she asked.

Jackson glanced upward mimicking as though he was searching for an answer. Lisa took advantage of that small moment and leapt to her feet, racing for the phone in the other room. As soon as she was through the door, she felt Jackson at her heels. That's how it had felt since the very beginning; he was always right at her heels. Then, he had hold of her. Lisa thrashed against him, but to no avail. He threw her onto the bed and then fell on top of her, once again trapping her with his weight.

"Awe, sweetie," he cooed, "if you wanted to get me into bed, all you had to do was ask." He caught both of her wrists in one hand and moved up to straddle her hips, "I wouldn've even made it easy for you." he said once he was sitting on top of her.

Lisa watched in a panic as he reached for his belt buckle. He slipped it off of his trim waist and she immediately had a flashback to that day. The knife at her throat, broad daylight, the sweaty stink of the man, nothing she could do. She hadn't thought Jackson was that type, but she kicked her legs and jerked her arms and began sobbing openly. He had her trapped, nothing she could do. "Don't, Jackson, no!" she cried.

Jackson looked down at her, and upon seeing the fear in her eyes, something in him couldn't let her panic like that. Something inside of him didn't want her to be afraid of him. "Shh. Shh. Calm down, Leese. Don't fight me." He said, his tone gentle and soothing, "I'm not going to do that to you. I wouldn't."

Lisa wasn't sure why but she believed him. She stopped struggling and her muscles relaxed. Jackson draped the belt over his shoulder and tucked his free arm under her and scooted her up higher on the bed. Then he bound her arms to the headboard with the thin leather strip. As he tightened the strap, he looked down at her and Lisa's breath caught in her throat. There was something in his eyes that she wasn't quite sure what to make of. His expression had softened and his lips parted just barely as he stared into her face.

Once her wrists were bound above her head, Jackson slowly slid his hands down Lisa's arms, deliberately brushing his thumbs against the outer swell of her breasts. He followed their curve to the middle of her ribcage then continued his descent, sliding his fingers down her waist, the tips of his thumbs just grazing either side of her belly button. He applied a slight pressure to her hip bones with his palms, smiling when he heard the quick little squeak burst from Lisa's lips. He then moved his hands toward her back, caressing the soft flesh of her bottom. He stared into her eyes the entire time...and she didn't look away. His hands settled momentarily on her upper thighs as he gently kneaded at the strong muscles with his fingers.

Lisa did not approve of her body's reaction to Jackson's touch. Her pulse had quickened, her breathing had grown shallow, and there was definitely a distinguishable heat radiating from her intimate regions. She knew that she should react, should kick him, should do something. But she couldn't get her mind to clear. The way he so lovingly caressed her, those gorgeous blue eyes boring into her own, holding her trapped in their unbreakable gaze. His hands were soft but rough; not the kind of rough that came from hard labor but the kind that came from excessive hunting. His hands continued to travel down her legs, squeezing her calves as he passed them. He reached her ankles, then hooked the tips of his fingers into the heels of her pumps and pulled them off of her feet and broke into a grin.

"Bad memories." he said.

Lisa almost laughed. The tension had completely drained from her body for the moment and the situation almost felt like a young woman and her lover messing around in the bedroom as opposed to a woman and her capture. It felt wrong for her to be so relaxed around him, but at the same time she didn't think anything had ever felt more natural in her life.

Jackson shrugged out of his jacket and slid up beside her on the bed. He turned on his side facing her, bracing himself on his elbow. He stared at her. He knew that his eyes were betraying him. They had always exploded with intense emotion and right now, he knew that Lisa could see his lust, his desire for her. He knew that he shouldn't have done what he just had, but he had not been able to deny himself the pleasure of being able to touch her.

"You know they'll come looking for me." Lisa said suddenly, finally regaining her ability to speak, though he voice still trembled. She guessed that it would probably be that way for the rest of the time that she was around him. He seemed to have that kind of an affect on her.

"Who? Cynthia?" Jackson smirked, widening his eyes for effect as he said the name.

Lisa nodded, unsure of why that seemed to amuse him.

"Good thing we won't be here long then, isn't it?" he said.

"What do you mean?" Lisa asked.

"Means to an end, Leese. Means to an end."

He rolled over onto his back and tucked his hands beneath his head. Lisa watched his movements; watched as his eyes started to drift closed and then began to work her wrists out of the belt. She was pulling so hard at the leather that she had begun to rub her skin raw.

"Don't make me have to redo that." Jackson said without opening his eyes. "Cause next time, I'll just knock you out. We don't want a repeat of last time."

"Why?" Lis said, "I seem to recall kicking the shit out of you last time."

He looked at her through one eye and smiled. She really had, he couldn't deny it, though he himself had gotten in a few pretty good blows. Maybe what really turned him on about her was that he knew whatever he dished out to her, she could take it, turn it around, and dish it right back to him. She was a constant challenge and there weren't many things out there that challenged him. He stretched his arms, toed off his shoes, and yawned as he turned his face toward her.

"Wanna watch some TV?" he asked.

"There's not one in here." Lisa informed.

"I noticed that." Jackson said hopping up from the bed and walking toward the door, "I don't get it either. I mean, you're a hotel person, maybe you can explain it. Why is there no TV in the bedroom? Everyone has a TV in the bedroom. Easy enough problem to solve, though." He flashed her a cheeky grin and disappeared from the room.

Lisa just watched him go. She didn't know whether to laugh, scream, or fall in love. What was he doing? He was being all charming like he had been when she had first met him at the check in line at the airport. It was like he was trying to act as though she was there with him willingly or something. Her eyes moved up to her restraints, which she was not struggling against. Was she there willingly?

The sound of Jackson reentering the room brought her gaze back down, only to find that it wasn't Jackson at all, but Mellmott. His beady eyes gleamed at her.

"Well, isn't this a pretty sight?" He said. He had shed his suit jacket and wore his button up open at the collar. He stood there in the doorway, leering at her. "Where's Rippner?"

"O-other room." Lisa said. His eyes were roaming her body, making her skin want to crawl away from her bones at the very thought of him touching it.

"Interesting." Mellmott said, closing the bedroom door.

Lisa was struggling rather desperately against the belt now. Mellmott put one knee on the foot of the bed, the mattress squeaking loudly as if to voice Lisa's protest for her. He touched her foot and Lisa kicked at him. His bulky arm swatted her leg away like it was nothing and he kept coming toward her.

"Jackson!" she screamed.

"Hush up, pretty." Mellmott said, his tongue darting out of his mouth to moisten his lips.

The man had completely morphed from the polite business man she had met downstairs in the lobby the previous night. He had turned into some kind of a monster from a nightmare. She tugged one wrist free just as he reached her upper body and swung a balled up fist at him. She caught him right in the jaw, causing his balance to shift slightly, but other than that she had done little to no real damage. She went to untie the belt from her other wrist, but Mellmott grabbed her hand and pinned it down to her side.

"I'll give Rippner this," he said, "he has good taste in women."

"Thank you." An icy voice said, causing Mellmott's entire body to go rigid.

Lisa peeked around his gigantic form and breathed a sigh of relief. Jackson was standing at the foot of the bed, feet shoulder width apart, and a silenced 9mm in his hand aimed right at the back of Mellmott's skull.

"Get off of her and I won't shoot you." He said in a controlled voice.

"Please," Mellmott scoffed, "you and I both know you can't hit shit, Rippner."

"You don't have to be a good shot when the barrel is six inches from the target." Jackson said, the wickedly malicious tone that Lisa knew so well dancing in his voice, "However, if you prefer my usual method, I'd be more than happy to oblige."

It was then that Lisa spotted the sheen by Jackson's thigh. In his free hand, he held a very long, very sharp looking knife. A K-bar, Lisa assumed. His face was deadly serious. She had only seen that look on his face once and it was right before he had tried to gut her with a weapon very similar to the one he now held at his side.

Mellmott pushed himself away from Lisa and off the bed and turned to face Jackson. Jackson wanted to pull the trigger as punishment for Mellmott even thinking that he had the right to touch Lisa. He wanted to make it perfectly clear that Lisa was his. She belonged to him. His property. But not yet, time was short and Jackson still needed him.

"Go get the car." He said, tucking the gun into the back of his waistband. As soon as Mellmott was out the door, Jackson propped his left foot up on the edge of the bed and lifted the pant leg to return the knife to the sheath that was strapped to his calve. He had never revealed the blade to Mellmott and Lisa had the sneaking suspicion that he wouldn't have, not until he had rammed it through Mellmott's gut anyway. "Looks like it's time to go." He said, walking up to the head of the bed and reaching to help Lisa free her other hand.

"Hey," Lisa said, trying to get Jackson to look at her. He ceased what he was doing and gave her his full attention. She looked him directly in those pretty eyes of his and said, "Get a new dog."

**Author's Note: **That was it. I apologize for the bump and grind earlier in the chapter, but it was a dirty part of my mind that needed satisfaction. And, let's face it, how many of us can honestly say that we haven't secretly wanted Jackson Rippner to come waltzing in randomly and just tie us to a bedpost? Any how, thanks for reading and don't forget to let me know what you think!


	5. Chapter Four: So You Wanna Spin My World

**Author's Note: **Again I say, Wow! Thank you all so much for the overwhelming reviews. I'm thrilled that so many people seem to be enjoying my story. Here's the next chapter, I hope you like it just as well. All the reviews have been so wonderful, I hope I don't let you down. Be sure to let me know what you think of this installment!

**Chapter Four: So You Wanna Spin My World Around**

Jackson finished untying the belt from Lisa's wrists and leaned down to put his shoes back on. While his back was turned, Lisa wrapped the end of the belt around her hand and squeezed it so tightly that her knuckles turned white. When Jackson turned to face her again, she swung the belt at him. The heavy metallic buckle connected with the side of his head causing him to fall off of the bed. Lisa jumped off the bed as well, but as soon as her feet hit the floor Jackson had her again. This time however, Lisa had prepared herself. She grabbed his right shoulder with both of her hands and jerked down at the same time she brought her knee up, crashing it into his stomach. Coughing, Jackson fell down on all fours, grasping at his torso. Lisa went to make for the door, but Jackson caught her by the shin. So, she spun around and moved to knee him in the face only to have him block the assault, catching her lieg by the back of the knee. Now that he had hold of both of her legs, he simply jerked them up and out from under her.

Lisa crashed down hard on her back, the back of her head smacking into the ground. Her world went spinning, but she gave it no head, immediately shuffling back a little and kicking Jackson in the chest with her bare foot. He lost the balance he had on his knees and toppled backwards. Lisa flipped over onto her stomach and hopped to her feet, causing an instant headrush and dizziness to overcome her. She paused briefly, wobbling on her feet and groping at the spot on the back of her head where it had met the floor, then made for the door. He delay cost her though. Just as she was pulling open the door, Jackson slammed bodily into it, forcing it shut once again.

His pretty eyes glared at her. "Lisa." he growled in warning.

But Lisa was already halfway across the room and no longer listening to him. He didn't have time for this! They needed to get out of this hotel before someone noticed that she was missing. He followed after her and ducked as a flying lamp narrowly missed colliding with his head. The two of them weaved between the furniture, one trying to evade, the other pursue. Lisa reached an end table that had a phone perched on top of it and grabbed the reciever intent on calling the front desk, but Jackson appeared behind her and slammed his hand down on the base before she could dial even a single number. Instead she opted to hit Jackson in the jaw with the mouth peice. Never one to take things lying down, Jackson reciprocated by picking up the base and smacking her across the face with it. Lisa crashed down into the end table, the legs flying off into different areas of the room.

Lisa had learned to be a tough girl, but there were still things that even she couldn't sustain and being hit in the head with a phone was definitely one of them. She lay there groaning on her back for a long moment, she wasn't exactly sure for how long. Jackson was suddenly in her line of sight, kneeling beside her. He grabbed her by both of her arms and lifted her easily onto the couch.

"Come on, Leese. Wake up." He said, tapping her cheek gently with his fingers.

Lisa answered him with yet another low groan from deep in her throat. The world was blurry and tilting and she couldn't seem to keep her eyes open. Jackson sat down on the coffee table across from her, his legs on either side of her own. He reached over and lightly shook her by the shoulders.

"Leese, focus. Look in my eyes." He said cradling the back of her head with one hand and trying to get her to look at him.

Lisa tried as hard as she could to follow his instructions but her head was just so fuzzy. She struggled to focus in on the bright blue orbs of his eyes which were beaming straight at her, but she just couldn't seem to do it.

"All right," Jackson went on, "open up. Hopefully these will kick in quick."

Lisa opened her mouth slightly and felt Jackson lay two dry powdery pills on her tongue, then he held the rim of a glass to her lips. She instinctively drank the water down, swallowing the pills as she did so. It was as though someone had pulled a plastic sheet out from in front of her eyes as her surroundings suddenly came into clear, sharp focus. Jackson was still sitting in front of her, leaning forward, his elbows braced on his knees, his hands laced together in front of him. She focused her sight on his face. He had a cut above his right temple and his lower lips was busted open. Her handiwork. She smiled.

Jackson leaned further forward and slipped her shoes back onto her feet, glancing up at her with one eyebrow cocked. Her lovely face was already turning red and puffy and he had a momentary bout with self loathing for doing that to her. The moment passed and it was back to business.

"Ready to try and stand up?" he asked, his voice sincere and concerned.

"I don't know." She said honestly.

Jackson nodded, "I hate to say it, Leese, but you don't really have choice. Come on."

He reached forward and slipped his hands under her arms and easily lifted her to her feet. Keeping her on her feet on the other hand proved to be a little more difficult. Her knees buckled beneath her own weight and gave out. She lurched forward, falling against Jackson's sturdy form. He placed his hands securely on her lower back, holding her up. Lisa threw one arm over his shoulder anchoring it by cupping her hand onto the back of his neck while holding securely onto his bicep with the other hand. She let her head drop to his shoulder, closed her eyes and whimpered.

Jackson didn't know what to make of this. Here she was, leaning into him, needing him to hold her. She felt really good in his arms. He could smell her hair; sweet like sugar cookies. He was enjoying this way too much. He had expected to get into it when they were wrestling around, sadist that he was, but he had never counted on this tenderness and he certainly hadn't counted on the way that it was affecting him. Holding her like that, like they were slow dancing, he didn't want to admit even to himself how much he liked having her that close. He needed to get his mind back on his work and exactly what it was that he was there to do.

"You know you made me do that, right?" He had meant for it to come out colder than it actually had. It was meant to sound sarcastic and mocking, but it came out almost like an apology.

"Oh, shut up, Jackson." Lisa mumbled into his shoulder. She liked being able to smell his cologne. It was strangely comforting to her as she leaned against him, as was the feeling of his arms around her. She knew that he should be the last person to be able to give her comfort, but at the moment, with her world so unsteady, it seemed that he was the only thing that could.

"Okay, Leese, we gotta start walking." He said, shifting her to his side, taking all of her weight onto one arm.

Lisa dropped her hold on Jackson's bicep, but she wasn't ready to be separated from him just yet so she twisted the fingers of her other hand in the material of his jacket to keep him close. Even though she had him practically carrying her at that point, she still needed to grasp onto something if only to make herself feel more secure. Jackson paused when the reached the hotel room door.

"Do I need to remind you of what will happen if you decide to get cute?" he said without looking at her. He didn't trust himself enough to look at her at the moment.

"I know." she said, her head fallinf against his shoulder once again.

"Good." Jackson said simply and opened the door.

They made their way to the elevator, or more accurately, Jackson made their way to the elevator. He pushed the button just as Lisa slipped her free arm back up around his neck. She subtly nuzzled a little closer to him, hoping that he wouldn't notice her need for his warmth.

"Hey, come on, wake up." He said, gently brushing some of the soft strands of her hair, which had all come free from the clasp by that point, off of her shoulder. He let himself enjoy the feeling of his fingers sliding easily through it. "Come on, Leese." He tucked his hand beneath her hair and lightly massaged the back of her neck.

The elevator doors slid open and Jackson literally picked Lisa up and carried her in. He punched the button for the underground parking garage and quickly propped Lisa up in the corner. He bent his knees and hunched forward in an attempt to see her eyes which was a difficult task considering that her was tilted forward.

"Lisa, hey, Lisa, come on. Look at me." He cupped her face in his hands, "Are you okay?"

She made a small humming sound which Jackson did not consider to be an answer.

"Lisa? Come on, Leese, you're starting to scare me." He said, genuinely sounding worried.

His last statement had caught her attention and she wanted desperately to look up at him to see if he had meant it. His hands were holding either side of her face, so she raised her own fingers and gripped his forearms. He stiffened his arms at once so that she could hold on to them to keep herself up. Slowly, she raised her gaze to meet his and was shocked at all the different emotions that she saw swirling around in those clean ice blue lakes. There was truth there. She had always thought that he had pretty eyes, even when they were murderous, they were still gorgeous. They gave away his feeling when he wasn't careful. He really was worried about her at the moment. It was evident there in his eyes. What was she thinking letting him manipulate her like this? But he had meant his concern. She should have known. He never lied.

The elevator jerked to a halt and the doors slid open with a ding, signaling the arrival of the next passengers. Not wanting to alert anyone as to the situation, Jackson moved to Lisa's side but still kept an arm around her waist to hold her up. Lisa snuggled into the crook of his arm and rested her head against his shoulder as Jackson eyed the people who had stepped into the elevator. He and Lisa had been joined by a hairy round little man with a towel wrapped around his waist and a bad sunburn accompanied by a tall skinny blonde who had to be at least sixty, was dressed like a street hooker and had the biggest hair Jackson had ever seen. As the doors closed, the blonde jerked her oversized sunglasses off of her nose and smacked the man by her side on the arm. Jackson winced for him. With that sunburn, he knew that that slap had to have hurt like hell. If he had been the man, he would have responded by punching her in the nose.

"Look who it is, Vernie!" the woman slurred, obviously inebriated, "It's that cute little hotel manager!"

The man's eyes turned to Lisa and he smiled, "Yes." he said, his voice much deeper than Jackson had been expecting it to be, "Ms. Reisert."

Lisa opened her eyes and looked at them, then closed her eyes quickly before she had the chance to guffaw. Poor Mr. Lawsard looked like a giant lobster and Mrs. Lawsard had traded in her cheetah print pants for a skin tight hot pink vinyl mini skirt and white go-go boots. Lisa clung to Jackson's shoulders and pressed her lips tightly together to keep from laughing out loud.

"Yes, Mr. and Mrs. Lawsard," she managed, "How are those keys working out for you?"

"Much better, dear. Now that you sent that nice young man to fix that door." Mrs. Lawsard said.

Lisa turned back to face them, smiling and struggling to contain her laughter, "I'm very glad to hear it."

Jackson smiled down at her. Lisa was ever the professional. He could smell the gin on the woman's breath and took pity on her round little husband. He couldn't imagine having to deal with her day in and day out.

"Who is this young man?" Mrs. Lawsard inquired, her eyes traveling the length of Jackson's body as though he were a piece of candy.

Lisa and Jackson shared a look, their mouths both open and brows drawn together as though asking each other the same silent question. Then, Jackson abruptly turned to the Lawsards with a charming smile and said, "Jackson Rippner, ma'am. I'm just an old friend of Lisa's."

"Oh," Mrs. Lawsard cooed and Mr. Lawsard rolled his eyes. Jackson didn't blame him. The woman was insufferable. "Aren't you two just the cutest?"

"Yes, aren't we?" Lisa said, she and Jackson grinning widely as Jackson pulled her a little tighter against him.

"Look at you, you can't keep your hands off of her!" Mrs. Lawsard cackled.

The comment made Jackson's grin grow even wider if that was possible, "Well, if I let go she might try to run away."

He chuckled through closed lips as Lisa laughed into his shoulder at the truth behind the statement.

Mrs. Lawsard let out another raucous laugh and swatted at Jackson's arm. "You silly boy!"

Jackson noticed the way that Mr. Lawsard's eyes seemed to be examining Lisa's face. Her hair was pushed in front of her cheek hiding the redness from where he had hit her, but old Mr. Lawsard seemed to be trying to get a better look.

"Are you all right, Mr. Reisert?" he asked, reaching out to touch her arm.

Jackson reacted by gently tugging Lisa just beyong his reach and fixing the short man with a 'what the hell do you think you're doing' look.

"Oh, Vernie, she's fine!" Mrs. Lawsard bellowed, "Let the two kids be! They're in love."

Mr. Lawsard cast his wife a look that Lisa had seen him give her more than once. It was a look of pure annoyance. The elevator doors dinged yet again, opening up at the lobby. Jackson tucked Lisa further into the corner and stepped up a little, shielding her from anyone in the lobby who might be looking in their direction. The Lawsards stepped through the elevator doors, Mr. Lawsard toddling after his wife who was stumbling along on her stiletto heeled boots.

The doors closed back up and they dropped down to the parking garage level. Jackson helped Lisa off the elevator and wrapped his arm a little tighter around her waist when he felt her body stiffen. He knew how she despised parking lots and with good reason. If Jackson ever found the creep who had done that to her, even his dentist wouldn't be able to identify the body.

They walked through the small glass security door that required a hotel key to reenter and into the garage. Even in the middle of the night, it was astounding the affect that coming out of the air conditioning and into the blistering heat could have. The air was thick and muggy and pressed down on the two of them, making it difficult to breathe. The garage was poorly lit and one overhead light flashed incessantly giving the same effect as a strobe light and making the room seem like the set of a cheap slasher flick from the eighties.

"Come on, Leese." Jackson said, forcing her to keep moving forward. They paused as Jackson took a second to scan the room. Two headlights flashed at them. "Let's go." He said, releasing her waist and leading her by the hand.

"Where are we going?" Lisa asked.

"We don't have time, Leese."

"Tell me where we're going."

"Lisa..." Jackson warned.

Lisa stopped walking. Jackson turned and fixed her with a cautionary glare, then tugged on her arm but Lisa pulled away from him. She stumbled backward in the beginnings of running away, but she was still too weak from the blow to her head and she fell, landing hard on her tailbone. She raised a hand to her head as it lulled to the side.

"Look at you, Leese. You can't even walk on your own." Jackson said, stepping toward her.

Lisa saw him and used her hands to shuffle away from his approaching form. Jackson stopped walking and released a deep sigh, folding his arms over his chest and looking up at the ceiling.

"I'm not going anywhere with you." Lisa hissed.

Jackson slowly and deliberately brought his gaze back down to her. "Oh, yes you are."

No sooner had the words left his mouth than he had sprang at her, trying to get his hands on her waist. She kicked straight out and he caught her ankle just before her pump connected with his thigh. He narrowed his eyes and clucked his tongue at her, shaking his head like a disapproving parent. Then, he tugged on her leg, pulling her to him. Once he got his hands around her upper arms he yanked her to her feet only to have her twist and try to scramble away again. So, he threw her back down on the ground and dropped to his knees, straddling her thighs. He grabbed her by the neck and slowly began to apply a large amount of pressure on her jugular.

"Lisa, stop making this difficult." he said slowly.

Lisa clawed at his hands, her fingernails digging into his flesh. She kicked her legs back and forth, flailing beneath his weight, coughing and sputtering as she struggled against him. How could he do that? How could he be so kind and gentle and concerned with her wellbeing one minute and then holding her to the ground, strangling the life from her the next?

She looked up at him, her eyes pleading with him to let her go. Jackson couldn't stand to see that look on her face and immediately released her throat and took a step back. Lisa took three deep breaths and turned onto her side as though it would help her to fill her lungs. She looked so vulnerable, lying there coughing and trying to breathe, Jackson wanted to hold her, stroke her hair, as he had done in the elevator.

"Come on, Lisa." he said, his breathing labored.

Lisa glared up at him from the ground. "I'm not going."

Jackson rolled his eyes. "You just don't get it, do you?" He said jerking her to her feet and slinging her over his shoulder. "I told you, you don't have a choice."

Lisa wiggled and squirmed and pounded her fists on his back, but Jackson only tightened his hold on her legs. To add insult to injury, he didn't even quicken his pace letting her know that all of her thrashing had no affect on him. He approached the black Lexus that had bright lighted them, which Mellmott was seated in the driver's seat.

Mellmott popped the trunk open, which Jackson quickly slammed his hand down on to shut. He pulled open the backdoor, set Lisa down on her feet and then shoved her into the backseat and shut the door. He slid into the passenger seat with a heavy sigh.

"Drive." he commanded.

"Shouldn't you..." Mellmott began only to be cut off by Jackson.

"I'm not putting her in the damn trunk, now drive."

Lisa right herself in the backseat and went for the door handle. She tugged on it and shouldered the door, but it didn't budge. A frustrated scream escaped her lips through clenched teeth and she slapped her palm against the window twice.

"Don't you love childproof locks?" Mellmott snickered, casting her an insinuating smile.

Lisa glared at him and before he knew what was happening, she had thrown her high heel at his head.

"You bitch!" he growled and turned to hit her.

Jackson caught his arm by the wrist before it got anywhere close to Lisa. He narrowed his crystalline eyes at Mellmott and said simply, "Drive."

Mellmott turned back around in his seat and gripped the steering wheel.

"Can I have my shoe back?" Lisa asked.

"Hell no!" Mellmott snapped, but even as he said it Jackson held her shoe up over the seat without looking back at her, allowing her to snatch it from his hand.

"You need anything, Leese? You okay?" Jackson asked, eyeing her in the rearview mirror.

"Can I borrow a pen?" she quipped.

"Funny."

Mellmott maneuvered the car out onto the highway, nearly colliding with a Mercedes Benz as he did so. Jackson turned and gave him a wary gaze. In the back, Lisa hasitly fastened her seatbelt, shooting scornful lookes at the backs of her captures' heads.

She fought it off for as long as she could, but soon enough fatigue and her pounding head overpowered her will to stay conscious and she fell asleep. Eyes closed and body shifting ever so slightly with the movements of the car, she didn't realize that they were headed to an all too familiar location or she would have put up a bigger fight to get away. She may have even tried jumping from the speeding vehicle. Alas, the head injury she had sustained prevented her from remaining awake.

It wasn't until later, as they came to a stop at their destination, that Lisa's eyes fluttered open. She wiped a string of drool from her lower lip and groggily took in her surroundings as she rubbed a crick out of the back of her neck. She recognized this neighborhood, but it didn't make sense. The truth of where she was slammed into her like a hammer to the chest and she swore under her breath. There was no reason for them to be there, none at all. She wanted an explanation and she wanted it now.

Mellmott and Jackson both climbed out of the car, Jackson pausing briefly to open the backdoor so that Lisa could get out as well. She started out only to be pulled back in by the seatbelt which in her haste she had forgotten that she was wearing. She fumbled with it until she managed to get it unfastened and threw herself out of the car, catching Jackson by the arm as he started to walk away from her.

"Jackson?"

Jackson paused and turned to her, fixing his eyes on hers, "Lisa."

"What are we doing at my dad's house?"

**Author's Note: **Well, that's it for this chapter. Violence between these two is always fun to write, because you know it's 95 percent sexual! Let me know what you think!


	6. Chapter Five: Deja vu

**Author's Note: **Thanks again to all my reviewers! I really don't think that I can say that enough, so I'll say it one more time. Thank you all! That's really all I wanted to say so I'll stop rambling and get to the chapter...don't forget to review for me!

**Chapter Five: Deja vu**

"Why are we here?" Lisa demanded, shaking Jackson violently by the arm and drawing Mellmott's attention to them.

Jackson quickly seized her by her forearm and dragged her around to the back of the car where he pinned her between himself and the trunk. "Look," he said, his eyes burning into hers, "my colleagues need the floor plans to a building that your father designed a few years back."

"So go to the firm." Lisa hissed, starting to walk away only to have Jackson immediately grab her and slam her once again against the trunk.

"They tried that. Apparently, the original architect holds the rights to the design therefore after retirement they get to take the plans with them as a sort of keepsake."

Lisa looked from Jackson to Mellmott, who was standing far too close to her father's house for her liking, then she looked to the front door and finally back to Jackson. "Then let me go in and get them. Tell me what plans you need and I'll go get them."

Jackson chuckled, "Hey, Leese, have I ever struck you as a stupid man?"

Her eyes scanned the darkened street for any signs of help. Nothing. Maybe she could reason with Jackson. He was a logical thinker, male driven and all that. "My father has insomnia, okay. He's awake right now and I don't want anything to happen to him."

"Nothing's going to happen to him." Jackson assured her, "We go in. You introduce us as old friends. We get the plans. We leave. Life goes on."

"You honestly think that he doesn't remember shooting you?" Lisa said, "He might be getting kinda old, but he isn't senile."

"Lisa, it's this...or I send you into that house alone with Mellmott," Lisa swore she saw concern flash in his eyes, "And I won't do that."

Frustrated, Lisa rubbed both of her hands over her face hard and weighed her options...or lack thereof. She didn't want her dad to get hurt but she couldn't see a way around taking Jackson in with her. She returned her gaze to Jackson, tears brimming on the edges of her eyelids. "Promise me that you won't let him hurt my dad."

"Done." Jackson answered without hesitation. He had no interest in hurting her father. He just needed those plans so that he could get this assignment over with...and whisk Lisa away in the middle of the night without anyone noticing so he could have her all to himself.

His promise comforted Lisa. It was odd that she let anything he said to her be taken in a good way, but it was Jackson and she knew that he would keep his promise to her. He always had before. As soon as they were in that house, she knew that he would do whatever was necessary in order to get the job done, but he would also keep her father safe. The reason she knew this; he had said that he would.

Jackson kept a firm grip on her elbow as he walked her to the front door, and it was a long walk. With every step she took, she could feel her dread building up in the pit of her stomach. It was one thing for Jackson to come after her; hell she had been waiting for the son of a bitch, practically longing for him for the past year and a half. But this other guy getting near her or her father was something completely different. She didn't know him, had never dealt with him and what she had seen of him was hardly something to write home to mom about. She and Jackson stepped up to the front door where she rang the doorbell, earning her questioning look from Mellmott.

"Don't you have a key to your own house?" he snickered.

Lisa's eyes narrowed into slits as she looked at him, "I don't have my purse, moron."

"Why you..."

"Mellmott." Jackson warned, "Lisa, you kids play nice."

The door swung inward revealing a very confused looking Joe Reisert. "Lisa, honey, what going..."

His question was cut short when Mellmott shouldered his way into the house, knocking the older man out of the way as he did so. Jackson fought off the urge to simply chase Mellmott down, slit his throat and be freed of his idiocy. Instead, he shuffled Lisa inside, releasing his hold on her so that she could see to her father and make sure that he was all right. Mellmott was already ravaging through the house, tearing things apart and sending papers flying everywhere.

Joe didn't even seem to care. All of his attention was focused on staying in between the strangers in his house, one of whom looked vaguely familiar, and his most precious possession, his daughter. He didn't know exactly what was going on, but he was perceptive enough to realize that there was a possibility that she was in danger. If there were a list of priorities of his life, her name would be right beside the number one in big bold faced letters, make no mistake about it.

Jackson was embarrassed at the way Mellmott was rummaging aimlessly through Mr. Reisert's home. He was supposed to be a professional and he seemed to have absolutely no idea as to how to handle himself in this situation.

"Mellmott...can I show you a far easier way to handle this particular type of job?" Jackson called, sounding amazingly like an impatient school teacher.

Mellmott ceased what he was doing and turned to Jackson, his breathing heavy, sweat glistening on his forehead. Jackson did not care for the way his gaze seemed to settle almost immediately on Lisa. The look in his eyes made him very nervous for her safety. Jackson turned to where Lisa was helping her father to his feet.

"What's going on, sweetie?" he was asking her.

"Mr. Reisert," Jackson said, all business, "We were wondering if you wouldn't mind parting with one of your designs?"

"You can have anything you want. Take anything." Joe said.

Upon hearing the words, Jackson's eyes unwittingly scanned over Lisa's lovely figure. Joe noticed this, and wrapped a protective arm around his daughter and adding to his statement, "Just leave my daughter and I alone."

Jackson snapped himself out of it, "Fair enough." he lied. He couldn't leave Lisa alone even if he wanted to...which he didn't. "Now, if you would tell us where it is that you keep them."

Joe pointed up the stairs. Jackson made a big show of inhaling and exhaling. He looked up the stairs, then back at Joe and bowed his head as a gentleman might do. "After you." he said.

Joe looked back and forth from Jackson and Mellmott like he was terrified they were going to lash out and seize his daughter by the hair and drag her away. He nudged her up the stairs ahead of him and led his two assailants to hie personal office.

Jackson couldn't help but try and sneak a peek up Lisa's swishing black skirt as she climbed the staircase, but that Joe was a clever man and had soon positioned himself directly behind her, blocking Jackson's view. It made Jackson chuckle to himself. He liked the old man.

He took a look around the house as he ascended the stairs, his eyes settling on the door that he had once held Lisa pinned against just before he had thrown her over the banister and down the very stairs they were walking up. He had thought that he had her beaten at that moment. He smiled at the memory and glanced up to see Lisa standing at the top of the stairs looking down at him. Gorgeous little Lisa, she was full of surprises.

Once they were in the office, Jackson turned to Mellmott and spoke as if telling a small puppy to fetch, "Now, find the papers."

Mellmott went for the very cabinet that Lisa just happened to be standing in front of, his eyes roaming over the length of her and Jackson swiftly moved to pull her out of Mellmott's path by her arms. He handed her immediately over to her father. Though he knew that he should keep his attention focused on Mellmott and his search for the floor plans, he couldn't stop himself from observing Lisa and her father. Joe had more or less tucked Lisa in behind him to act as a sort of human shield between her and them. He kept one hand firmly locked on her arm as though he were afraid that she would disappear if he let go. Jackson felt himself go into a kind of awe. It was amazing, a parent's love. After ten minutes, the office had been completely wrecked and they still had not found the plans that they needed.

"They're not here." Mellmott finally said.

Jackson ran both of his hands back through his hair and released a loud sigh. He was getting impatient which was never a good thing. "All right, Mr. Reisert. We really need to find these plans."

Lisa shrieked as Mellmott all of the sudden grabbed hold of her wrist and pulled her to him. "And I'm gonna hurt the pretty one here if you don't tell us where they are!"

Jackson's temper flared the moment that Mellmott had touched her. In a flash, Mellmott had his gun drawn and had it digging into Lisa's temple. Jackson turned his face back to Lisa's father, but his eyes lingered for a moment on Lisa herself and the panic that was steadily growing in her eyes.

"Let her go." Joe demanded.

"Mr. Reisert, we don't want to hurt your lovely daughter," Jackson said in earnest, "but my associate here will if you don't give us the plans to the Brantley Building."

Joe's eyes seemed to glaze over in instant confusion, "The Brantley Building?" he asked, drawing Lisa's attention.

"Yes." Jackson nodded.

"But," Joe said, "I didn't design the Brantley Building."

"What do you mean you didn't design the Brantley Building?" Jackson asked.

"I mean that I didn't design the Brantley Building," Joe reapeated, "Mike Crestworth did the Brantley Building."

Jackson felt as though a rug had just been pulled out from beneath his feet as Lisa looked to him, her pretty face beginning to tremble as her fear began to take over. Something was wrong, and she could tell it just as easily as he could.

"You're telling me that another man from your firm did the Brantley Building, not you?" Jackson asked. Easy enough mistake. Names got mixed up, no biggie.

"No," Joe said, "Crestworth has never worked for my firm."

Or not. "What's going on?" Jackson said.

"Oh, Rippner," Mellmott called, tightening his arm around Lisa's small frame, "I think I can explain what's going on for you."

Jackson watched uneasily as Mellmott nuzzled his face into Lisa's hair much like a pig did when it rooted around in its own filth.

"You see, my esteemed employers, your former ones as the case may be, were less than happy with the results of that whole Keefe fiasco. They want you dealt with." he went on gleefully, swinging the gun out to point it at Jackson's chest.

"All right," Jackson said, brandishing his cocky smirk with full force at Mellmott, "So deal with me."

"No, I don't think I will yet. You see, they want this pretty little thing dealt with as well." Mellmott said, gesturing to Lisa, "And I want you to see what I'm gonna do to her before I kill you."

The very insinuation of it made Jackson furious, but he calmed himself as he focused on Lisa. She though well under pressure and he knew it. He watched her slide her fingers along her father's desk with ease and almost completely unnoticeably. One major mistake that Mellmott had inknowingly just made, he had underestimated exactly how dangerous Lisa really was.

"I want you to see me do everything you weren't man enough to do." Mellmott was saying at the same time reaching down and groping Lisa's breast. His touch made her physically cringe as she felt the bile rising at the back of her throat. She involuntarily gagged when his lips brushed against the outer shell of her ear. He disgusted her to her very depths and she fought to keep from even think about him oozing him way inside of her. "And this bitch is gonna love it!"

As soon as he had made the statement, Lisa brought the mechanical pencil she had palmed from her father's desk down hard, ramming it into his thigh. Mellmott howled in agony, distracting him enough that Jackson was able to grab hold of a large hard plastic cylindrical tube which he then swung like a baseball bat and knocked the gun from Mellmott's hand. He grabbed Lisa and pulled her away from Mellmott's grasp and herded her and her father out of the office and down the stairs.

"I'm getting an interesting sense of deja vu after that one." Jackson said with his trademark smirk.

"Yeah, I thought you'd like that." Lisa grinned.

"Oh, very much." Jackson finished.

Lisa didn't need to look back at him to know that that smirk was on his face. It was amazing, how well she felt that she knew him. It should have shocked her more, but for some reason, it didn't.

They could hear Mellmott lumbering around the office. He was about five more seconds from coming pounding down the stairs after them and Lisa wanted her dad out of the house before that happened.

"Dad," Lisa said, "get in your car, go to the airport and get on the first plane that you can to mom's. I'll be there as soon as I can."

"No, you're coming with me." Joe said.

"I can't dad." she said, shaking her head, "I'll be safer with Jackson, he'll come for me first." The reality of that statement hit her like a slap in the face, something inside of her knew that Jackson would protect her.

"But..." Joe started.

"Don't argue with me, just go!" Lisa exclaimed, "I love you. I'll see you soon." She kissed her father on the cheek and shoved him out the front door, then turned to Jackson. "We have to keep him away from my dad."

Jackson looked around, "All right." He said, grabbing her by the arm and leading her through the kitchen and up the other set of stairs. They heard Mellmott's foot hit the top stair and Jackson made sure to knock over a small end table to get his attention and the footsteps stopped as Mellmott paused to listen for more noise. Jackson let a door creak just loud enough the Mellmott heard it, but he couldn't figure out where the noise had come from. He was not aware that Jackson had slipped just around the corner from him. He came back off the step and moved to walk around the corner just as Jackson sprang forward and delivered a quick thrust to his throat, sending him crashing down the stairs gasping for breath along the way.

Jackson grabbed Lisa by the wrist and dragged her into her bedroom where he deposited her to the far side of the bed, pushing her to her knees behind it out of sight. They heard Mellmott hulking his way back up the stairs, still coughing, in search of them. Jackson held a finger to his lips to indicate for her to be quiet and then he disappeared from the room. Lisa's breathing was shaky and loud, so she focused all of her attention on trying to be silent for Jackson's sake.

She heard her bedroom door squeak open and gentle footsteps entered. It wasn't Jackson, of that she was certain. He would have let her know that it was him. It would have been so easy just to freeze there, but instead she let her stress management training kick in and flattened herself onto her stomach and slid underneath the bed. She watched Mellmott's shoes make their way around her bed and she consciously slid her body to the opposite side as him. Just as she suspected that he would, he dropped to his knee and peered under at her.

A scream burst from her throat against her will as she shot out from under the bed and out of the room. She charged into her bathroom and slammed the door behind her. There was suddenly an arm that stretched out, wrapped around her and pulled her into the bathrub. Jackson knelt down, pulling her down in front of him, tucking her between his knees and draping one arm over her protectively. Lisa felt her body immediately respond, relaxing back against him. Just the sight of him was a comfort. She cursed herself for not having taken the time to grab herself a weapon, but she had been too afraid of Mellmott...or rather of his gun. Jackson was his own weapon, he didn't really need much else and she knew it. Just being beside she felt safer. They listened as Mellmott entered the bathroom and Jackson silently drew his knife. Lisa's eyes hit the blade and she involontarily gasped at the sight. Jackson's face tightened as he quickly clasped his free hand a little too firmly over her mouth and braced himself in ready position for what he knew was coming.

Sure enough, the shower curtain was ripped open and before Mellmott had the chance to aim the gun, Jackson lunged for him, slashing him in the arm with the edge of his knife. Both men fell to the floor, Jackson lost his hold on the dagger and it went skidding out the door. The same happened with Mellmott's gun and the opposite door so the two men were rolling around on the tiles trying to strangle each other. Mellmott was about twice Jackson's size, so once he got on top he used his body mass to pin the leaner man and get his bulky hands around his throat. Over Mellmott's shoulder, Jackson saw the shower curtain suddenly fall and not a second later, the end of the rod slammed into the side of Mellmott's head, knocking him off of Jackson. Lisa stood over the both, her eyes wild and her breathing shallow.

"Let's go!" Jackson said, leaping to his feet and taking hold of her to usher her out of the bathroom.

Halfway down the stairs, Jackson spotted his knife. He grabbed it and turned to head back up and finish the job. Lisa spotted him make the turn and knew what he was about to do. The fear the Mellmott had already gotten to his gun and was just waiting for Jackson to come back so that he could kill him hit her. She didn't want to lose him. She didn't want him to leave her alone. She reached out and caught him by the wrist.

"No, Jackson, please!" she exclaimed.

Jackson took a long look at her pleading face and, against his gut instincts which were to kill, he gave in. He followed her down the stairs and out the front door where they both jumped into the Lexus and peeled out of the driveway just in time to see Mellmott emerge from the house. He fired two shots after them, then began looking around for another vehicle.

"To the airport?" Jackson asked.

"No," Lisa replied, "we can't lead him to my dad."

"Well, then where the hell are we supposed to go?"

Lisa struggled to think. She needed to get her mind clear but it just wasn't cooperating. If she could just calm down enough to think straight, she could get them out of this, she knew it. Jackson was swerving dangerously down the road, darting in and out from between cars, just missing clipping about five of them within the span of two minutes. How was she supposed to think with the sound of squealing brakes and blaring horns ringing in her ears? Then the answer dawned on her as she imagined an epiphany might. There was a place that she had the full run of, she could maneuver them easily from place to place seeing that she knew it like the back of her hand. There was security, video cameras, and with Jackson there, they could do anything.

"Back to the hotel!"

**Author's Note: **Well? Don't keep me waiting too long, please! Let me know if you think that I'm slacking on anything, deal?


	7. Chapter Six: Up and Down

**Author's Note: **Thank you all, yet again! I cannot begin to tell you how I appreciate every single review that I get! It really means a lot to me that so many people seem to be enjoying this little fic. I really don't know how to respond to everything, so I'll just say thank you again and get on with it.; )

Anyways, without further adeu, here is the next chapter of my story, please let me know what you think! Hope you like it!

And I have to say...

**Warning: **This chapter contains some sexual content.

**Chapter Six: Up and Down**

Lisa and Jackson burst through the revolving glass door of the Lux Atlantic without so much as a pause for impact.

"Lisa!" Cynthia exclaimed from behind the front counter, "Where have you..."

"No time, Cynthia!" Lisa called, not even looking back at her friend. They rushed to the elevators, where Jackson pushed down the call button. "No, no." Lisa said, pulling her master keycard from the inner pocket of her blazer and swiping it in the slot beside the elevator nearest the wall, causing the doors to open immediately. "We'll take the employee elevator."

She pulled Jackson in with her and hit the button for the top floor where the surveillance room was. From there, they could monitor the security cameras and see exactly when and where Mellmott would enter the hotel and they could figure out a plan from there. Lisa had decided not to call the police quite yet, because she wasn't sure as to what would happen to Jackson if she did...and she wasn't sure yet what she wanted to happen to Jackson. They were both panting heavily as they leaned against the walls of the elevator, more from adrenaline than from a lack of breath, and tried to relax for at least the ride up. Lisa looked at Jackson questioningly, "How much of a head start do you think we have?"

"Maybe fifteen minutes once he figures out where we've gone." Jackson informed her.

"And how long do you think that'll take?" she asked.

Jackson shook his head and flashed her a half cocked grin, shrugging and raising his hands to indicate that he had no idea. The elevator doors opened with a buzz rather than a ding and they were off again. They sprinted down the hall to a metal door where Lisa again used her keycard and shoved it open. They were greeted by the smiling face of Ed Hedrick, the head of security.

Ed was about fifty three and greatly resembled the father off of that show _Family Matters_. Anytime there was a problem, he was the one who called Lisa on her two way and let her know about it so that she could deal with it. And if there was a bad problem he was always more than willing to meet her halfway and help her deal with it. He had a wife, three kids, and four grandkids. He was a good man. The last thing Lisa wanted to do was get him involved in this one.

"Ed, why don't you take a break while I show my new assistant around here?" she said as casually as she could muster.

Ed didn't quite buy it, but he figured if she needed him she would say so, after all Lisa had never held anything back from him before. So, he left her to her business. He really was a good man. Lisa pushed the door shut behind him and turned to face Jackson, who was standing with his hands in his pockets and staring right back at her.

"So, what now?" he asked.

"Now," Lisa said shrugging out of her blazer, "we wait."

Jackson removed his own jacket and sat down in one of the comfortable rolling chairs that were positioned in front of the security monitors. He admired Lisa's white silk camisole as she took a seat in the other chair and leaned back tiredly.

"Do you like what you do?" she inquired.

Jackson shrugged as though he had never really thought about it before, "I'm good at it. It pays the bills."

"What bills?"

"Bills."

There was a long, uncomfortable moment of silence. Both of them could actually feel the tension in the room thickening like a long simmered stew. Lisa shifted self consciously in her seat. So much for making small talk.

"Why did you come back?" Lisa asked him suddenly.

Jackson felt so much sympathy for her. He had swept into her life, twice now, and completely knocked her world onto its hinges. "I go where they tell me to." he said, keeping his voice cool. "You think you can handle this?"

Lisa narrowed her eyes at him, "I handled you."

Jackson gave her a full fledged smile and tucked both of his hands behind his head. She was a spitfire, that Lisa. And she had much more strength than she gave herself credit for. He knew her inside and out and he knew that at the moment she was doubting herself; doubting her ability to get herself through what she was about to go through. But he certainly didn't doubt her. Not for a second.

Lisa tried to relax as she watched the several small screens in front of her, but her mind was flooded with the events that had just occurred and were about to occur. She wasn't sure if she could do this again. She was determined to keep the brave face on though and never show weakness. But, there was something else getting to her, as well. There was something boiling inside of her just beneath the surface, begging to be released and Lisa knew that she wouldn't be able to hold it in for very much longer. Jackson chose that moment to lean forward to get a better look at her face and say to her, "Are you gonna cry again?"

Lisa glared at him and then, suddenly and without any warning, she balled up her fist and punched him directly in the jaw.

Jackson fell from his chair and into the floor. He wasn't surprised. Hell, part of him was wondering what had taken her so damn long. He rubbed at his aching jaw and looked up at her as she stood from her seat. She walked over to him and punched him again.

"This is all your fault!" She growled.

Jackson nodded and then grabbed her ankles and pulled her feet out from under her. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately. As soon as she landed, she kicked him hard in the ribcage and shuffled just out of his reach. They both leapt to their feet and Lisa charged him, shoving him back against the wall where she slapped him with her palm. Jackson paused, touched his bottom lip with his thumb and examined the blood that had poured from it. He then slapped Lisa across the face as well. Lisa looked at him, mouth gaping open in a 'how dare you slap me' look and she slapped him again. Then, surprising even herself, she grabbed both sides of his face and pulled his mouth to hers. It was another assault really. Her lips attacked his with hunger and passion, her tongue invading him, probing the inside of his mouth, massaging his own tongue. She broke away and took a step back, realizing exactly what she had just done. Jackson would have none of it though. He caught her by the back of the head, spun her around, and slammed her, not gently, into the wall before pressing his lips once again to hers. It had taken less than a second for Lisa to respond, tangling her hands in the tufts of his hair and deepening the kiss. Jackson crushed his mouth against hers hard enough that he might actually bruise her lips.

Jackson pressed his body against the length of her, aching to feel her softness, letting her feel his excitement. His figners bit into her hips, pulling her tighter to him. His hands found the delicate material of her cami and he broke the kiss for a moment only to pull it over her head. Lisa complied, lifting her arms to make the process easier, reattaching herself to him as soon as the piece of silk was clear. He broke for her mouth, trailing kisses along her jaw, down her neck, and biting down on the tender flesh where her neck meets the shoulder, earning him a satisfying moan from Lisa. His touch touch seemed to set her skin of fire and she impulsively arched into it. His fingertips brushed over her scar, but neither of them paid it any head. They were too caught up in the moment, in each other. She tugged his shirt from the confines of his waistband and began hastily undoing the buttons and shoving the crisp white material from his shoulders. She whimpered when she discovered his undershirt and he appeased her by peeling it off and casting it aside immediately.

They were skin to skin now, and Lisa clung to him, dug her fingernails into his back just below his shoulder blades and bit down hard on his collarbone, she couldn't seem to get close enough to him. She shoved her hands into his hair and tugged, during which time Jackson had captured her earlobe between his teeth and playfully tugged at it. He twisted his fingers into the folds of her skirt and shoved it up around her hips, Lisa instantly hooked one leg up around his waist, followed immediately by the other one. Jackson supported her weight with his pelvis and braced her against the wall when she locked her legs behind his back and found his lips again. Jackson felt the familiar pain between his legs which he had felt so often when he thought about Lisa, but now he could actually do something about it. Lisa seemed to read his mind as she grinded her hips downward, only causing the pain and throbbing to grow worse.

Their movements were impatient and rough and saturated with the turbulance of their relationship. Whether they admitted it or not, each of them had been waiting for this moment since that day they had met at the airport.

Jackson took the cup of that lacy pink bra that had teased him so innocently earlier in his hand and shoved it aside, taking the soft flesh of her breast into his mouth. Lisa threw her head back against the wall and gasped in pleasure. If he had had any control left in him, any second thoughts, that sound from her had pushed them from his mind. He carried her over to the control panel, propped her hips against it, and shoved her back, laying her body out so he could appreciate the view. Lisa's hands slid down between her thighs as she reached for his waist and undid the button on his pants. Jackson glanced up for a mere second, but in that glance his moment with Lisa was stolen from him.

"Damn it." he breathed and caught Lisa by the wrists as she began to unzip his slacks.

"What?" Lisa asked, sitting up and looking over her shoulder at the video monitors.

Mellmott was in the employee elevator on his way up to them. But that wasn't what had disturbed Lisa the most. What got to her most was the one hand which held his gun and the other that held Cynthia by the back of her hair.

Jackson was already across the room pulling his shirt back on. He tossed Lisa her camisole and she tugged it on over her head as the two of them walked from the room to meet him at the elevator.

"Okay, Mellmott's going to ease off the elevator and check both directions with his gun before he fully exits," Jackson explained as they walked, tucking his shirt back in along the way, "he'll turn to the side next to the wall first because he knows that if I'm there, that's the side I'll be on."

"So, you're going to be somewhere else, then?" Lisa said, nearly slipping on the freshly mopped floor in her efforts to keep up with Jackson's long strides.

"No," Jackson said, looking her in the eyes, "I'm going to be exactly where he thinks I'm going to be. You on the other hand, will be waiting on the other side of the elevator."

Lisa took a deep shuddering breath and searched his confident eyes for an answer, any answer. He just smiled at her.

"You'll know what to do." he said.

They reached the elevator and took their perspective positions and waited. It seemed like an eternity before the elevator finally buzzed sounding its arrival on the floor. Lisa locked gazes with Jackson and drew in a long, deep breath to gather her composure. The doors slid open and about four seconds later, give or take, Cynthia emerged, trembling and unsteady on her feet. Mellmott's large hand gripped her by the back of her neck and continually pushed her in a forward motion. Just as Jackson had predicted, he turned toward him first, aiming his gun directly at Jackson's head. Jackson, for his part remained casually leaned against the wall with his hands in his pockets, smirking. The cocky little smirk that had not long ago driven her insane now seemed like the sexiest thing in the world to Lisa. And, again, just as Jackson said she would, without hesitation, Lisa grabbed the yellow _wet floor _sign from the ground andd swung it hard, catching Mellmott in the side of the head and knocking him into the wall, causing him to lose his grasp on Cynthia and sending his weapon skidding down the hall.

Jackson straightened and walked toward where Mellmott had hit the ground. Lisa grabbed Cynthia's wrist and dove into the closing elevator, dragging the terrified red head along with her. Jackson was perfectly capable of taking care of himself without her help, so it became her goal to get Cynthia as far from the scene as she possibly could.

The doors shut and Lisa was safely separated from Mellmott. Jackson grinned as he approached the hit man as he struggled to get to his feet. He held his knife in his right hand and rolled his shoulders back to stretch them in preparation for action. He would enjoy this. From the very instant that Mellmott had put his hands on Lisa, Jackson had just been aching to have a go at him, to cut him a new one. He had only refrained from doing so for the fact that he had thought that he needed him, but now all bets were off. Mellmott stood, Jackson lunged. He caught Mellmott across the ribs with his first swipe and the upper thigh with his second. Mellmott blocked the third and swung a closed fist at Jackson's head, which Jackson ducked and then kicked the back of Mellmott's knee, causing it to give and Mellmott to drop. He then kicked his foot straight up and hit Mellmott directly in the nose, which sent him flying down hall.

Unfortunately, this put Mellmott within reach of his gun which he grabbed and instantly turned on Jackson. Jackson dove out of the way just as the shots were fired.

Cynthia clung to Lisa as they rode in the elevator. "Oh, God, Leese...what's..."

"It's really complicated, Cynthia." Lisa said, hugging her friend tightly.

"Okay, I can accept that." Cynthia said, "You'll tell me later, huh?"

"Definitely." Lisa said.

"Over some very strong cocktails?" Cynthia went on.

"I'm buyin'."

They weren't sure exactly how far down they had managed to go when the elevator screeched to an unwilling halt so quickly that Cynthia and Lisa were both thrown to the floor.

"Oh. Oh. Oh." Cynthia cried, "Now what?"

Lisa started running through scenarios in her head. The elevator's sudden stop had to mean that someone had gotten into the control booth and shut off the power to it, which had to be Mellmott, which meant...Jackson.

"Oh, no." Lisa breathed.

It couldn't be. There was no way that Jackson could be dead. He was too strong, too quick, too clever. It wasn't even conceivable that that oaf Mellmott had been able to get the better of him. Jackson was worth more than twenty Mellmotts. She couldn't imagine her world without Jackson. He had become such a huge part of it in so short a time. He certainly couldn't be classified as a healthy attachment, but he was an attachment nonetheless and she feared that she would be lost without him. Lisa fought off a batch of tears as grief threatened to overpower her. She snapped her mind out of it though; she didn't have the time right then to cry over Jackson. She had to focus on getting herself and Cynthia to safety, she had to act. "All right." She said out loud, though it was purely for her own benefit. She needed to hear that she was about to do something.

She pulled off her shoe and wedged the high heel into the center of the elevator doors, opening them just wide enough for her fingers to slip through. She looked at Cynthia, telling her with her eyes that she needed help, and soon both girls had lodged their hands into the doors and were prying them open. They were partially between two floors and the ground was raised to the same level as Lisa's chest.

"Cynthia, I need you to get on your knees and let me stand on your back." Lisa commanded.

Cynthia didn't ask any quetions, the dear girl. She just did as she was told. Lisa kicked off her other shoe and climbed onto her friend's shoulders, using her high heel once again to pry open the outer elevator doors. As soon as the opening was wide enough for her to fit through, she literally fell through the doors. Without a pause, she scrambled around and reached in to help Cynthia climb out. As they both got to their feet, Lisa mentally thanked God that it was the middle of the night and that most of the guests were sound asleep in their rooms. It meant that she didn't have to answer any questions from passersby.

"Okay," Lisa said, walking to one of the main elevators and punching the 'down' arrow, "here's what you're gonna do. You're gonna get to the lobby and call the police."

"Lisa?" Cynthia said, understanding that Lisa did not intend to come with her.

Lisa caught both sides of Cynthia's face between her hands and made strong eye contact with her, "No. Listen. Call the police. Tell them that there is a man in the hotel with a gun and that security cannot find him. Do you understand?"

"Yes." Cynthia nodded and the two girls embraced each other.

Out of the corner of her eye, Lisa saw Mellmott round the far corner just as the elevator doors opened with a cheerful ding. She shoved Cynthia into the elevator, pulling the girl's keycard from her wrist as she did so. Cynthia watched helplessly as Lisa raced around the corner as bullets crashed into the wall just beside her while the doors of the elevator closed.

Lisa heard the shots hit the wall and kicked up her pace a notch, thankful that she was now barefoot. She swiped her card in the first door she came to and ducked into the room just as Mellmott emerged from behind the wall and fired at her again. She fastned the chain and bolt locks at the same time her assailant began to throw his weight into the door in attempt to break it down. She rushed back into the bedroom of the suite and shut and locked that door as well. It wouldn't hold nearly as long as the front door, but it served as another temporary barrier, buying her a little more time. She heard the main door splinter just before it gave in and her stomach leapt into her throat. Her heart was beating so hard against her chest, she swore that any moment it would burst free.

Thinking on her feet, so to speak, she slipped out the glass patio door onto the balcony. The pounding had begun on the other side of the bedroom door now. She swung one leg over the railing of the balcony and then the other. She had just begun to contemplate the long drop down when she heard a strong clear voice that instantly caught her full attention.

"Mellmott!" The voice called.

Relief washed through every part of her being and she actually smiled, forgetting where she was as she unconsciously whispered his name,"Jackson?" He was alive!

Her euphoria however was short lived as she lost her footing and dropped from the edge of the balcony. With a shriek, she caught hold of a pole of the railing with one hand. The pole was sharp and sliced open her palm while the impact from the miraculous catch nearly jerked her arm out of the socket. Her mind was screaming bloody murder as she just dangled there, willing herself not to look down. She allowed herself only a single moment of fear, then she fought to clear her mind. Knowing that she wouldn't be able to hoist herself back up, she began shifting the weight of her legs back and forth and managed to swing herself far enough to fall diagnally onto the balcony just below.

The landing hurt. She toppled over the furniture and scraped her knees and elbows and the bottoms of her feet to the point that she was bleeding from pretty much every appendage on her body. She lay still for a moment, like a broken doll that had been discarded by a small child. She was unable to move the pain was so fierce. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly and wished for the hurting to go away. She was answered by the sound of the balcony door sliding open. In a moment of defeat, she set her jaw with the goal of readying herself for the ensuing attack, but instead...

"Ms. Reisert?"

Lisa blinked open her eyes and looked up into the round face of none other than Mr. Lawsard. "Mr. Lawsard!" she exclaimed.

He hurried over to her and helped her to sit up and then to get to her feet. "Are you all right, Ms. Reisert?"

"No. I mean, yes. I mean..."

"Of course you're not. Look at you." He said leading her into the living room of his suite, "Come in here and sit down. I'll get you a drink to help with your nerves and then we'll take a look at those cuts."

He sat her down in one of the large fluffy armchairs and set about the mini bar. "Mr. Lawsard, we need to call the p..." her eyes found Mrs. Lawsard, who was currently lying perfectly still on the sofa clad only in a bright yellow nighty.

"I'm very excited that you're here, Lisa. May I call you Lisa?" Mr. Lawsard was saying.

"Is she all right?" Lisa asked, indicating Mrs. Lawsard.

"I've been wanting to tell you what a lovely young woman I think you are."

She spotted the stream of blood that had apparently already dried to Mrs. Lawsard's chin.

"I've been telling Margie forever now how I thought you have so much class..."

Lisa could now hear her heart pounding in her ears as she focused on the fact that Mrs. Lawsard appeared to no longer be breathing. That along with the fact that her eyes were wide open and black...lifeless.

"and elegance..."

Mrs. Lawsard was dead! Mr. Lawsard had killed her! What the hell had happened to the world? How many times had she seen him shoot the woman looks of annoyance and thought absolutely nothing of it? Truth be told, she had given the woman similar looks on numerous occasions. She never would have thought that he would ever do something like kill her! Mr. Lawsard turned to her holding two glasses of champagne, drawing her full attention to him.

"You're just like a delicate white rose."

Red alarms started going off in Lisa's mind as understanding dawned on her at the same time Mr. Lawsard handed her a glass of champagne. It was him. He had sent her the flowers. There had been times when he had given her a look or a smile that had kind of given her the creeps, but thousands of other guests did the same thing! None of them went around killing their wives, though! She hadn't picked up on anything because she hadn't thought that there was anything to pick up on. It was then that she saw the gun that was tucked into Mr. Lawsard's belt and her heart stopped.

"You do understand," he said, "that now that I have you here...I cannot let you leave."

**Author's Note: **That's it for now! I have a lot of respect for all readers, so I feel like I should admit this to you...originally, I had Jackson and Lisa's first kiss in chapter four in the elevator. It was very tender and very sweet and it just felt _wrong_. So I erased and rewrote that entire half of the chapter. I just felt that if these two were to get together, it would be like the rest of their relationship, you know, volatile and turbulant and aggressive! But I don't know, I could be completely wrong. Let me know what you think, kay!


	8. Chapter Seven: Bloody Hell

**Author's Note: **I have to thank you all once again for the reviews! I'll tell you a secret, I'm hoping that I can break 200. If I do that, I'll be thrilled beyond everything!

P.S. Here's the next chapter, Screamin-psiren,where's my Cillian? Is he in the mail? I'll pay the shipping and handling!

And, Rashida, I live in Tennessee, I got my DVD copy of _On the Edge _from I suggest trying there. They usually have everything that I look for.

**Chapter Seven: Bloody Hell**

Lisa stood there for what seemed like forever, mouth agape, eyes gazing blankly down at the upward moving bubbles in the glass of champagne that she held in her hand. All of the sudden, it was as though something snapped into focus in her mind. She was sick and tired of being the victim. Her narrowed eyes rose up from the bubbling glass and zoomed in on the hobbit-like man who stood in front of her.

"The hell you can't!" Lisa roared angrily. She threw the glass of champagne into the man's face and drove her knee into his soft belly. Then, she bolted for the door, pulling it open only to have it jerk to a sudden stop. Her eyes found the chain lock and with a curse she shut the door and began fumbling with the lock. She hadn't really formulated a plan, but she had refused to let Jackson Rippner turn her into a simpering little damsel in distress, there was no way in hell Vernon Lawsard was going to.

In a blink, Lawsard was at her heels. For a bigger man, he moved rather quickly. He reached the door at about the same time that she had unfastened the chain; Lawsard clumsily wrapped his arms around her waist and slammed into her, crushing her flat against the door with his body. Her head smacked into the solid wooden surface and her body went momentarily limp in his arms. She just couldn't seem to catch a break today. Lawsard cradled her in his arms, lifting her legs from the ground as she tried desperately to regain her equilibrium.

When her vision cleared, Lisa realized that he was carrying her toward the door of the bedroom. In a panic, she threw her elbow back and heard the grotesque crunch as it connected with his nose, breaking it with little effort. Lawsard dropped her and cupped both hands over his bleeding face. She hit the ground with a thud, but considering the preliminary impacts that she had dealt with, this was nothing. She was on her feet in no time and sprinting for the door once again. She swung the previously unlocked door open and hurled herself through it without so much as a moment's worth of hesitation.

As soon as she was out the door, she ran smack into a solid figure and tumbled to the ground with it, her body tangling in with whatever she had hit. It didn't take her long to discover that her limbs were entwined with none other than those of Mellmott, the bastard. The very first thought to go through her mind was that on a day like the one she was having, it was just her luck to run into that asshole. A small burst of noise came from her throat and she immediately kicked him in the face and clambered to her feet. Mellmott groaned and pointed his gun at her head, freezing her in her tracks. She wasn't frozen for very long however because as soon as she was on her feet, an arm came from nowhere, caught her by the elbow and began dragging her down the hall. She felt herself smile briefly as she latched onto Jackson's arm as he guided her down long corridor.

Less than a second later, Lawsard came lurching through the hotel room door, gun in hand, and he tumbled over Mellmott who was still sprawled out in the floor. Lawsard got to his feet and as soon as he spotted Lisa's shrinking form, he took off down the hallway in pursuit of her. Lisa glanced over her shoulder and urged Jackson to go faster after she saw him coming after them. She could practically hear the man's labored breathing in her ear even though he was still a good distance behind the two of them. She could still feel his clammy hands on her legs and the thought made her shudder with disgust. She and Jackson rounded the corner and Lisa went to hit the call button for the elevator.

Jackson didn't even wait for the elevator; he simply jerked Lisa to the left and shoved their way into the stairwell. He released his hold on Lisa's arm, confident that she could keep up with him as he thundered down the stairs. Lisa did not disappoint him, hopping steps and matching him stride for stride. The sound of heavy footsteps coming from behind them drew his attention and he took the chance to glance upward, where he spotted the fat man from the elevator earlier that day, the one with the annoying wife with big hair, was crashing down the steps after them.

"What..." he started.

"Just keep going!" Lisa exclaimed, shoving on his shoulder to keep him moving forward.

They burst from the stairwell onto the next floor that they reached and went for the elevators in the hopes of a quick descent to the lobby. Not five seconds after they were out did Lawsard emerge as well. As lady luck would have it, one of the elevators was just about to close and Jackson and Lisa managed just to slide through the doors.

"That is one spry fat man." Jackson stated once they were tucked safely inside the elevator.

Lisa looked at him as she struggled to catch her breath. He was alive. He was standing there in front of her in all his glory. Without thinking about it, she had thrown her arms around his neck, smiling from ear to ear in relief.

Jackson's entire body tensed at first at this show of affection, but he slowly relaxed and even stroked her hair; though he never did try to hide his confusion. "Okay," he said, "I don't know what this is about...but, why has the big guy joined the fun?"

"He sent the flowers." Lisa said, without letting him go or loosening her grip.

"He's the secret admirer?"

"He's a psycho." Lisa replied.

"I've always thought that was a harsh term."

"His wife is lying in his room, very dead."

"He killed her?"

Lisa nodded into his shoulder.

Jackson recalled the blonde drunkard from ealier, "Don't really blame him there."

Lisa pulled back and gave him a look.

"What?" he asked, "I don't lie."

Lisa almost wanted to laugh at his honesty, which was just so humorous and macabre all at once, but she couldn't find it in her at the moment to laugh. Instead, she rested her head tiredly against his shoulder and watched the numbers change as the elevator climbed floors. They hadn't had a say as to where the elevator went. Lisa's guess was that some little brat had thought that it would be funny to push all of the buttons as they got off. The elevator stopped and the doors opened with a ding to an empty hall.

"Do we get off?" Lisa asked, moving to step out onto the floor.

"No." Jackson said, tugging her back against the far wall, "We'll wait till it's done going up and then we'll go back down to the lobby."

The doors closed and Lisa leaned her head back against the wall, closing her eyes and letting out another sigh. She was so ready for the night to just be over, but then she caught herself wondering what would happen when it was over. Would Jackson stick around? Would he stay with her? Or would he leave again? Probably leave. He wouldn't want to stick around here, it wasn't who he was. He was an assassin for crying out loud! And there were people trying to kill him. His first instinct would be self preservation. He would want to get out of town and keep moving and to hell with everything and every_one _else. After all, a moving target is harder to hit. But the thing was, Lisa didn't want him to leave and she thought that she was going crazy for wanting him to stay so that she could be with him. She wondered how long it would take for her to come to terms with the fact that she had feelings for the man who had tried to kill her and her father.

"How is it that Mellmott seems to show up at the most inconvenient times?" She said, reaching up the rub at her temples.

"I don't know," Jackson said, shaking his head, "The son of a bitch chased me down a flight of stairs and then all this way until you so kindly knocked him on his ass. I just need to get him in a corner without that damn gun."

She looked over at him to find that he was staring back at her. He smiled and not his usual smirk, but a tender smile. Then, he reached out to touch her face. He brushed his thumb over her bruised cheekbone, causing her to wince slightly from the pressure. The way he was looking at her at that moment was so out of character for him that it made her shiver inside, but in a good way. Maybe he would stay with her after all. The elevator dinged again and the doors slid open just as a gentle _thwep _sounded through the air and Jackson slammed into the back elevator wall, a stream of blood spouting from his shoulder and all over Lisa. She screamed and leaned forward to help him, but a hand suddenly tangled into the back of her hair and jerked her off of her feet. She was being dragged out of the elevator and away from where Jackson was lying on the floor, bleeding. Every time she managed to get a foothold, her captor would tug her off her balance again. Jackson moved to come after her, bloody shoulder and all, but the elevator doors shut once again and he was gone.

Lisa used all of the strength in her neck to crane it in an attempt to see who it was that had grabbed her, finding it to be Lawsard who was using a tremendous effort to drag her down the hall. She didn't know how he had gotten there so quickly and quite frankly, she didn't care. She just knew that she had to get away from him or things were most definitely gonna end badly for her. She took a second to evaluate the situation and clear her head. She was currently barefoot, covered in blood, other people's as well as her own, and being dragged by the hair down one of the long hallways of her own damned hotel. The conclusion that she came to after considering all of these facts was that she so should not have gotten out of bed this morning.

Screaming through clenched teeth, she started clawing at the hand that held her by the hair and squirming her body and kicking her legs, anything she could think of that might cause him to lose his grip and let her slip away. Lawsard just cursed her and kept right on walking. His nose was still bleeding and it seemed that he had given up all pretenses of being polite. She must have really pissed him off when she had elbowed him. She knew that things had just taken a sharp turn from bad to much, much worse. Lisa screamed at the top of her lungs and succeeded in drawing the attention of a guest. She felt so relieved when she saw one of the hotel room doors open and a man in his early forties emerged, wearing boxers and a white tee shirt, his eyes still half shut from sleep.

"What the hell is going on here?" he demanded, charging towards them.

Lawsard paused and spun around on his heel and then without even a second of hesitation, swung his gun arm around and shot the man point blank in the chest. Lisa's breath caught in her throat as his blood splattered across her face; she couldn't believe what had just happened right in front of her eyes. The man's body went limp and collapsed on her feet. Lisa frightfully pulled her legs away from the body and closed her eyes, trying desperately to erase the image of his face as he had been shot. Lawsard knelt down beside her so that he was talking directly into her ear.

"If you want that to happen twice, scream again." He said.

Her chin quivered as she looked at the lifeless body of the man who had just tried to help her. He had simply been being a descent human being and he had died...for her. Tears began to flow freely down her cheeks, but aside from a few sniffles, she forced herself to remain silent. It wasn't her goal to get innocent people killed. Lawsard hoisted her into the elevators at the other side of the floor and pressed the gun into her temple as soon as the doors closed and they were on their way back down to his own floor.

Meanwhile...

The elevator doors dinged open and Jackson raced out, ignoring the pain and stiffness that was quickly building in his shoulder. It took his less than five seconds to reach the stairwell. As he hit the stairs, he heard a loud thundering of footsteps coming from below him and paused, peering over the railing. The footfalls ceased immediately. Jackson waited there only long enough to draw his knife from beneath his pant leg and he was off again. He didn't really have the time to worry about whether or not he would run into Mellmott along the way, he needed to get to Lisa and he needed to get to her fast.

Back at Lawsard's...

Lawsard kicked open his hotel room door and actually had the nerve to call out, "Margie, we have company!"

"No!" Lisa cried and tried to tug herself out of his grasp.

Lawsard hauled her into the room, pulling her so that she had a full view of the dead Mrs. Lawsard's body which continued to gaze sightlessly up at the ceiling. The vision was just too sad to bear. Lisa could feel her throat tightening up as a fresh batch of tears welled up in her eyes. She just couldn't seem to find a way out of this and she didn't know if she had the energy for another miraculous escape. But there was still that little voice in her head. That little voice that kept telling her that she was stronger than this; that she would not allow herself to be subjected to that humiliation again. It was still there and getting louder with every passing second. Lawsard dragged her past his late wife and into the suite's elaborately large bedroom.

"Get on the bed." he commanded, releasing his hold on her hair.

Lisa raised up to her knees and took a look at herself. She was out of breath, she was sweating profusely, and she was caked with blood from head to toe, even her fingernails had blood and bits of skin underneath them from where she had dug into Lawsard's fatty hands. There was only one thing that had yet to happen to her today, and she would be damned before she would ever let _that _happen to her again. She looked at him, her resiliance blazing in her eyes.

"No." she said.

"Get on the bed." Lawsard repeated firmly.

"You'll have to kill me first." Lisa spat as she managed to climb to her feet, albeit unsteadily.

Lawsard's pug eyes narrowed at her as he approached and held the gun in front of her nose. "Get on the bed."

Lisa ignored the dangerous piece of metal that was pressed to the tip of her nose and kept her eyes locked firmly on the squat little man who held it. "No."

He lowered the gun and turned his back on her. Lisa let out a breath that she hadn't realized she's been holding. Then, Lawsard spun back around and more or less pistol whipped her in the face. The sudden impact made her eye feel as though it were about to explode and she feel back onto the bed with a bounce. Lawsard then jumped on top of her like an over anxious dog. Lisa was getting a little tired of all the wrong men climbing on top of her. First Mellmott, then Lawsard. It was not pleasant! Lawsard hovered over her, sweat dripping from his dark curly hair and onto her face. His pointy little lizard tongue darted between his lips to wet them as he began to lean down, no doubt to kiss her, but Lisa wasn't going to give him that chance. She brought her knee up hard into his groin. Lawsard grunted, his face twisting into a repulsive grimace and he clasped his hand around her throat. Lisa fought the urge to roll her eyes. The old strangulation bit...why was it that men's idea of violence against women was so damned repetitive?

Lawsard tucked his gun into the back of his waistband and started groping at the damp material of Lisa's blood stained camisole. His blunt fingers were thick and round like little sausages, the fleshy meaty part of his hands were scratched all to hell thanks to Lisa and he was perspiring so heavily that sweat kept rolling off of his forehead and dripping down onto Lisa. As soon as that gun was out of her sight, Lisa's fear of him was cut down by half. Just as he ripped her cami open she thrust her hand up, her palm connecticting solidly with his already injured nose. She couldn't get out from underneath him because of his weight, but she wasn't going to be compliant either. He cursed at her, squeezing one hand tight around her neck and cradling his nose between two fingers of his other hand. Then he looked back down at her as though she were the thing he hated most on the face of the planet and slapped her with his open palm.

"Now, Lisa, play nice." He hissed, his sausage-like fingers wringing at her breasts. He leaned down to her and shoved his tongue down her throat which Lisa immediately proceeded to bite. Lawsard pulled away with a bark, reared back, and slapped her again, so Lisa punched him in the jaw. He groaned, "I don't want to tie you down, Lisa."

"Sorry if I'm inconveniencing you, Mr. Lawsard!" Lisa snapped.

Lawsard narrowed his eyes and hit her again, so Lisa hit him back...again. One thing that she had learned from her time with Jackson was how to take a hit, by God. He grabbed her by the throat, yet again, with both hands and started squeezing. Lisa tried to push him away but he was way too heavy, so she resorted to pounding on his arms and shoulders with both fist as she gasped desperately for breath and tried in vain to twist herself out of his vice-like grip.

"Excuse me. I believe that's mine."

Lawsard sprang from the bed and turned to face the bedroom door. Lisa quickly shuffled herself into a sitting position on the bed, the remnants of her shirt slipping from her shoulders, and she saw Jackson leaning against the door jam as though he had been there all along. Lawsard pulled his gun from his waistband and aimed it at Jackson. Lisa turned her face away, squeezing her eyes shut and flinching at the sound of the gunshot. The silence after the gunshot was disturbed by a sickening gurgling sound which motivated Lisa to reopen her eyes. There was a bullet hole in the far wall, and not five feet from that very same wall lay the gun, still smoking. She looked back at Lawsard just in time to see Jackson shove his knee into the fat man's chest and ride him down onto the bed. She managed to roll out of the way in the nick of time. There was a deep gash in Lawsard's arm that was steadily pulsing blood and Jackson was clutching his knife in his right hand, Lisa assumed that Jackson had cut him as soon as he had pointed the gun at him. Judging from the bleeding, it appeared that he had hit an artery. She looked down to see that her chest and stomach were now splattered with fresh blood as well. There wasn't a shower strong enough to wash this day and all of its mess off of her. She looked up just in time to watch Jackson drive the tip of his knife down into Lawsard's gut. It made an appalling slurping sound as it entered, which alarmed Lisa to the point that she fell off the bed. The instant she hit the floor she was on her feet and scrambling back away from the bed until her back was pressed firmly against the wall.

From there, she watched Jackson really go to work. She had never seen anything quite as disturbing as what she saw Jackson do to Mr. Lawsard that night. First, he slit Lawsard from his navel to his throat, then he really got reved up, pulling and yanking apart layers of flesh and fat and muscle. Lisa slid down the wall to her knees, her hands over her mouth, unable to tear her eyes away from the heinous sight. Her mind had drowned out the horrid screams that Lawsard was making as Jackson did his work. The same Jackson that had chased her ruthlessly through her house had returned. He was standing right there in front of her, mutilating someone. Granted, that someone had attacked her, dragged her down a hall by her hair and tried to rape her...but what Jackson was doing to him was...unnatural...almost _bestial_. Her entire body was shaking as she gaped at the man who she so recently had thought of as her protector. How could she have been so foolish? His movements were swift and silent and deliberate. His once white shirt was now soaked nearly through with shiny crimson liquid.

Jackson finished his masterpiece and straightened. Lawsard's carcass was sprawled across the bed, wide open, his internal organs lying askew and in abnormal places around him. It was better than what the pig deserved for even thinking that he was good enough to put his filthy hands on Lisa. Jackson looked over to where Lisa was sitting against the wall, her body trembled and her pretty green eyes were wide with fear. Concern flooded through him. What had the bastard done to her before he had gotten there?

Jackson stared at her and Lisa took a moment to assess his appearance. His shirt clung to his lean body and his hair was caked to his forehead with blood. His right hand still held the blood-spattered knife. He started to move toward her and she found herself instinctively groping around the floor for something, _anything_ with which she could defend herself. Her fingers closed around Lawsard's gun and she pointed it at him.

"Don't!" she exclaimed.

Jackson froze. He raised both of his hands chest level to show that he did not intend to hurt her. "Leese...it's me." he said.

Lisa couldn't stop her hands from shuddering as she held the gun on him and she had started to cry again. She was so sick of crying! She didn't want to be afraid of him anymore. She liked the thought of having him around but...what he had just done...

She didn't have time to dwell on the thoughts though, because with cat-like reflexes, Jackson stripped her of the gun which he then threw across the room, his eyes bearing down on Lisa in a merciless glare. "What the hell was that?" he demanded.

Shivering and still kneeling on the ground, Lisa had to avert her eyes from Jackson's heated gaze. She hugged her knees tighter to her chest and released a shaky breath, her mind trying to formulate an answer that might seem logical even if only in her own mind.

Jackson sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He understood that she had been through a hell of al lot, but she had just pulled a freaking gun on him. That was completely unacceptable! But as he looked at her sitting there, all trembling and small looking, he was overwhelmed with the need to protect and comfort her. He would have to make a mental note to be more sensitive to her emotions in the future, but for now they really didn't have time for all of this. They needed to keep moving. He needed to get her down to the lobby and he wasn't going to do that by letting her sit there and sulk.

As Lisa raised her eyes once again to meet his, Jackson leaned down and, taking her by the upper arms, he pulled her up into a standing position. He noticed her appearance for the first time at that point and felt a fresh surge of hate for the dead man behind him wash through him. She was battered and bruised, half of which was probably his own doing; she was splattered with blood and in a state of partial undress. He wanted to comfort her, to tell her that everything was going to be all right, but it just wasn't in his nature to do so.

"Lisa, you gotta pull it together." He said, "Suck it up."

The comment earned him a narrow eyed glare from Lisa, but he watched as her eyes quickly widened to an unnatural size. He glanced over his shoulder just in time to see Mellmott come barreling into the room.

**Author's Note: **Well? Questions? Comments? Complaints? I'll take 'em all.


	9. Chapter Eight: He Won't Come After Me Ag

**Author's Note: **Thanking everyone, yet again, for all of the reviews! Although, everyone keeps calling me an evil writer and I don't quite know how to take it. :) Here's the next chapter, I hope you enjoy it. There is more violence in this one, just a fair warning, though it's not nearly as graphic as the previous chapter. I suppose I should have put a disclaimer on the last chapter but I really didn't think about it. I was mainly just trying to stay with what I felt was true to character

P.S. Luning-Ravatic: I love that scene in _28 Days Later _, too. I threw something in this one just for you, see if you can spot it!

**Chapter Eight: He Won't Come After Me Again**

Mellmott slammed into Jackson from behind, knocking him into Lisa, and thereby sending her head crashing into the incredibly hard wall behind her. A realatively safe assumption would be that she had received multiple concussions in the span of about six hours. Mellmott tore Jackson away from Lisa, who immediately slinked to the floor holding her head with her hands. She fought with everything that she had in her to keep her heavy eyelids from closing and her eyes focused on the two men wrestling around in front of her.

"Well, Mellmott, took you long enough," Jackson taunted in his obnoxious singsong voice, "I was beginning to wonder whether or not you really cared."

"Don't you worry about that, Rippner!" Mellmott retorted just as Jackson rammed his back into the wall, "First, I'm gonna deal with you, then I'm gonna have some fun with that pretty girlfriend of yours."

Jackson snarled at him and delivered a swift upward blow to his nose with the palm of his hand. Mellmott grunted and the hold he had on Jackson loosened enough for Jackson to twist himself away and get around behind him. Mellmott spun around to find that Jackson had gotten his hands back on his knife; he had dropped it when Mellmott had made his initial strike. Jackson turned, ready to swing but Mellmott caught him by the wrist and his uninjured shoulder as they struggled through the room, bumping into the furniture and walls. Jackson positioned his hand at the top of Mellmott's forehead and used his thumb to apply excessive pressure to his temple, causing Mellmott's temple to blur as an unbearable pain shot through his head. He responded in the same fashion, pinching at the pressure point where Jackson's shoulder met his neck, causing Jackson to instinctively tilt his head in attempt to protect his joints.

Lisa groped at the wall behind her, trying to rise to her feet, but she feel back to the floor almost instantly. She kept her eyes on Mellmott and Jackson, their movements resembling some kind of sick dance. Mellmott slammed Jackson into the patio door, cracking the glass but not breaking it and Jackson quickly shoved Mellmott back into the bureau. Lisa stared at the fractured glass, knowing the strength and durability of that glass; she winced at thinking of how hard Mellmott would have had to have shoved Jackson against it in order to break it like that. Mellmott straightened and then charged Jackson once again and the two men both lost their balance and fell through the bedroom door and out of sight.

Adrenaline and concern surged through Lisa giving her the energy to leap to her feet and run to the bedroom door to have a look at what was going on between the two men, regardless of the sudden head rush it caused. She found them rolling around on the floor, throwing punches or blows wherever they saw a free chance. Lisa had no doubt that Jackson could beat Mellmott any day of the week and twice on Sunday, but he was hurt. Her eyes followed his injured shoulder and saw that there was a circle of blood that was darker and shinier than the rest which which meant that the bullet wound located there was still bleeding a little too steadily for her comfort.

It seemed like the blink of an eye and they were both on their feet, Jackson slicing at Mellmott with his blade and Mellmott dodging him skillfully. Jacksom rammed into Mellmott and knocked him into the wall and held him there. He had just gotten the knife pressed to his throat when Mellmott head-butted Jackson, sending him flying across the room. Lisa couldn't help but think about the irony in that one. There was a small trickle of blood running down Mellmott's neck from where Jackson's knife had bitten into the flesh and the blow he had delivered only succeeded in further pissing Jackson off. He lashed out at Mellmott with a force that even Lisa had never seen from him, and she had just watched his gut a man. He lunged at Mellmott and stabbed the blade of the knife into Mellmott's thigh so deep and hard that it snapped in two. The blade broke off right at the hilt and Mellmott screamed and groped at his leg as a dark brownish red puddle formed and quickly saturated the pant leg of his slacks. Jackson cast the worthless handle of the knife aside and kicked Mellmott in his injured thigh, driving the blade further into the flesh. Mellmott dropped to his knees, his face contorted in a pained expression. He reached behind him and drew his gun from the holster at his back and aimed it at Jackson. On reflex, Jackson kicked the gun out of Mellmott's hand and it skidded to the far side of the room. Jackson tackled Mellmott, straddling his chest and grabbing the sides of his head and trying to drive his thumbs into the man's eyes. Mellmott twisted his face around, trying to get out of Jackson's grip, his hands groping out to his sides. He managed to get his fingers around the cord of a lamp and he jerked it forcefully off of the end table. Once it hit the ground and he got his hands on it, he swung it and hit Jackson in the neck, knocking him off of him. Jackson somersaulted backwards and came up on his feet as Mellmott also got to his feet, though he favored his injured leg.

This whole time, Lisa just stood there in the doorway, to startled to move. The rational part of her mind was screaming at her to run; to use both men's distraction and head for the door. She could make a clean get away. There was no way she could still possibly want to be around Jackson after what she had just seen him do...but then the connection that she felt to him was so strong. Every injury she had received that night was forgotten; any pain that she had been feeling didn't exist anymore; and it seemed that in between two heartbeats, her fear of Jackson had diminished. Now the only feelings going through her were of concern for the man who had so recently swooped in and completely taken over her world. She made a conscious effort to go for Mellmott's gun, but managed to get no more than two steps further into the room before the coffee table skidded in front of her as Mellmott was knocked into it. She halted and retreated back against the bedroom door jam. Jackson landed on top of Mellmott and both men rolled off of the coffee table and onto the floor, ripping and tearing at each other's throats. Lisa didn't know what she could do. She wanted to help Jackson; she just didn't know how she could.

Both men were on their feet again and somehow, Mellmott had managed to get his hands on Jackson's collar and they were spinning and jerking each other around in circles that looked unnatural to their movements. Mellmott slammed him into the wall, the back of Jackson's head smashing a picture frame that hung on it. His head literally bounced forward, revealing the speckled red droplets that clung to the picture from where the glass had scraped and busted open the scalp at the back of his head. A scream erupted from Lisa's throat without her even knowing it and drawing Mellmott's attention to her as he held Jackson, who seemed to be struggling against unconsciousness, pressed up against the wall.

"Don't worry, sweetheart," Mellmott sneered, "I'll get to you in time."

Lisa had done her job though. She had distracted him long enough that Jackson had managed to pull himself together and deliver a solid blow to Mellmott's ribcage with his knee. It was merely a momentary burst of strength though, as Mellmott immediately flung him across the room with fairly little effort. Lisa had a sudden epiphany and retreated back into the bedroom, her eyes scanning the contents of it frantically. She found what it was that she was searching for and reemerged not a full moment later. She was just in time to see Jackson leaning against the wall, his head lulling from side to side. Both men were covered in scrapes and bruises that were already turning a gangrenous yellow color and their skin was covered in blood, both dry caked layers and fresh, glistening and wet. They looked like a scene out of a slasher flick, not two men in the real world where normal people worked and lived. Mellmott had managed to get his hands back on his gun and he was standing in front of Jackson, aiming it at his head.

"No!" Lisa screamed, aiming Lawsard's gun at Mellmott.

Mellmott looked at her. He seemed stunned for a moment, but then he grinned and narrowed his eyes at her, his gaze screaming nothing but malice. "What, sweetie, you want this psycho in your life? Please."

It was a fair question. She could not remember any time that she had felt more terrified than when she had watched Jackson do what it was that he was apparently born to do to Mr. Lawsard. Did she really want to be around all that death and danger? Lisa started to really consider the question, begging her mind to clear because she didn't have a lot of time to make a decision. Did she want Jackson in her life? It was at that moment that Jackson looked up at her. Well, one thing was for sure, she knew that she didn't want him to not be in her life. He was everything that she wasn't when it came right down to it. Yes, he was dangerous and deadly and had a bit of sociopath in him...but at the same time he was also smart and protective and wicked honest...and those were qualities that she loved about him. The thought nearly knocked her on her ear. She had never imagined that she would think the word 'love' in the same sentence with anything having to do with Jackson...but there it was. The question was a lot more complicated than yes or no.

"You just let me deal with him, darling, then I'll come over there and take care of you, huh." Mellmott said and turned back to Jackson, who was in every moment that Lisa distracted Mellmott regaining his wits.

Lisa's mind began to wonder back to those self defense classes she had taken, the ones that had taught her how to be aware of her surroundings and ward off purse snatchers and rapists...but what good were they doing her now? She'd like to know what her instructor would tell her would be the proper move in this situation. When kidnapped, you're supposed to be compliant with your captor. Well, she had already screwed that one all to hell, hadn't she? Why stop there? May as well keep going!

"Don't!" Lisa commanded.

"Oh, and what are you gonna do about it, angel?" Mellmott snickered, "You gonna shoot me? Sorry, honey," every time he called her a pet name it made her want to vomit, "but I don't think you have the balls." He laughed a deep belly laugh and looked back again at Jackson.

Suddenly, on thing that her self defense instructor had told her came flooding into her mind. Turn anxiety and fear into anger. Anger was more empowering than fear. She felt the anger churning in the pit of her stomach like a really good liquor and then tunnel vision set in and her focus zoomed in on one thing. Mellmott. And just like that, it was over. The gunshot was loud and it hurt Lisa's ears. The pistol had kicked so hard that she had smacked herself in her own chin, adding yet another bruise to her list. Chunks of blood and bone and tissue clung to the wall from where the back of Mellmott's neck had basically exploded. Mellmott himself had sunken to the floor, grasping at his neck and making sick gurgling noises as he struggled to breathe. His struggling was futile though, because he was already dead. He was drowning in his own blood. The gun fell from Lisa's hands and she crumpled to the floor as though her muscles had just shriveled up and disappeared. Her shoulders jerked up and down as she gave in to the onslaught of sobs that spewed from her trembling lips. The rational part of her mind told her that by pulling that trigger, she had just saved Jackson's life but the female inside of her mind was screaming at her that she had just killed a human being. She covered her face with her hands, her fingernails bearing down hard into her forehead and drawing tiny trickles of blood. Jackson stepped over Mellmott's mangled body and walked over to where she sat.

When he first reached for her, Lisa retracted violently from his touch, shaking her head fiercely. But Jackson persisted and eventually managed to pull her to him. Once he had her in his arms, Lisa gave in and buried her face in his blood soaked shirt and began to weep openly. She had never killed anyone before, obviously. She had had urges, who hadn't, and hell, look at what all she had been through. But, she hadn't even been able to bring herself to kill Jackson when she had desperately wanted to and the opportunity had presented itself. What scared her the most, was that once she made the decision to do it, it had been easy. She had just squeezed the trigger and now Mellmott was dead...and Jackson was safe. She clung to him, her fingers digging into the wet material of his shirt. She had done it for him, so that she could be with him.

"I...I...I never...I've never..." she struggled to articulate what it was that she feeling, but Jackson didn't need her to. He cupped her face in his hands and shook his head, shushing her with his lips and pressing his mouth to hers.

"It's okay." he whispered, breaking the kiss and running his fingers through her hair. He loved the way her hair felt. "It's okay. Everything is gonna be all right."

"How?" Lisa asked, "I just killed a man!"

"He was going to kill me." Jackson rationalized for her, "And then you."

"How do you do this? How do you just kill people?"

"I don't really kill a lot of people." Jackson said, stroking his hand over her cheek affectionately. "I more or less organize things and make it easier for the lower paid thugs to get in there and get the job done."

After seeing what he had just done to Lawsard, Lisa found it kind of hard to believe that he hadn't killed his fair share of people. She would have bet that he had started out as one of those 'lower paid thugs' and worked his way up the ladder.

"How am I supposed to handle this?" she asked him, her voice sounding very small and vulnerable like a child's.

Jackson smiled, "Sorry, Leese. I can't tell you how to do that. But you're a tough girl. You'll figure it out and you'll cope. It's what you're good at, remember? Surviving in the day to day."

"This isn't day to day."

"Yes, it is. And the sooner you realize that...the sooner you'll move on."

"You expect me to just move on from this!" Lisa exclaimed.

Jackson chuckled at her sudden outburst and nodded his head. Lisa felt her brows draw together and without thinking about what she was doing, she slapped him across the face. On any normal day, Jackson would have responded in kind, however at the moment he was feeling a bit under the weather so he just laughed again and pulled her tightly against his chest. "See?" he said, "you're moving on already."

Lisa shook her head and continued to cry into his shirt. He was insane. He was completely out of his mind. She was _not _moving on already. She didn't know if this was soemthing that she would ever be able to move on from. She had killed a man. Defending herself against an attacker was one thing, but killing someone who hadn't even been coming after her...but he would have come for her as soon as he had finished off Jackson. Perhaps, it could be construed as preemptive self defense.

Jackson hooked her chin between his thumb and index finger and forced her to look up at him. Her eyes looked so sad. He brushed his hands through her hair, pushing it back away from her face. It was damp and sticky to the touch from all the blood and sweat. She sniffled and tried to get her crying under control and Jackson did his best to give her a warm smile and even leaned in and gave her a gentle kiss on the forehead. Lisa was taken aback by the sudden tenderness. It was so not Jackson. She sat there for what felt like an eternity, staring into his eyes, rendered completely speechless by his show of affection. This was what she wanted from him; what she needed from him.

Their moment was interrupted by the muffled sound of police sirens and Jackson jumped to his feet and slid open the balcony door and the sound grew clearer and louder. Lisa wiped the tears from her face and looked urgently to Jackson.

"The calvary's here." He said with a grin.

"What's going to happen?"

"Don't know." Jackson said, "But, we'll talk again soon."

"What do you mean? Are you leaving me? Again?" Lisa began sputtering.

Jackson simply smiled at her and then, as if he were some kind of a ghost from another realm, he disappeared from the room without another word. Lisa felt as though something in her mind broke the second that he walked out of the room and she slinked back to the far corner of the bedroom. She should really be relieved that he was gone, but instead she felt strangely empty without his presence. She knew that she would have to tell the police about him and she was terrified of what the consequences of that would be. She needed a really good therapist and she had the feeling that Dr. Phil just wasn't gonna cut it anymore. Arms crossed tightly, she hugged herself as in protection from a nonexistent cold and stared blankly into empty air. Everything was way too much and way to heavy a burden for her to carry. Sitting back and thinking about everything she had went through that day, everything she had done...it really was a wonder the she was still breathing, and on her own no less.

When the police found Lisa, she was curled into a little ball in the corner of the hotel room clad only in her skirt and a bra. She had been shivering violently which the paramedics had attributed to shock. They had carried her down to an ambulance and Cynthia rode with her to the hospital, leaving Rodney in charge of the goings on of the hotel for the rest of the night. Once they arrived at the hospital, they had, without cleaning her up, discerned that she had not received any serious injuries...and she had had to go through the humiliation of a rape kit again which had brought back a flood of unwanted memories. After all that, they had sat her down in a small white room, handed her a blanket and told her that an officer would be with her shortly.

She was soon joined by an officer Haggarty, a tall handsome man with light brown hair flagged with gray at the temples and an 'L' shaped scar on his chin just below his bottom lip. He wore a rumpled gray suit that made Lisa think he had been on the job since about the same time that her life had gone to hell on a hayride. He looked burnt out and like he would rather be doing anything else besides sitting in a room with some chick with some cockamamie story about hired assassins and stalkers who murdered their wives in the middle of their lavish five star hotel rooms. She felt no sympathy for him.

"Hello, Ms. Reisert." He said, flipped through the file folder he carried with him, "I'm detective Haggarty. I know you've been through a traumatizing ordeal but I need to ask you a few questions."

"I know." Lisa said dryly.

"May as well jump in where the water's warmest." Haggarty said, an attempt at humor Lisa was certain, she just couldn't figure out what was funny, "What exactly happened?"

"Isn't that my statement in your hand?" She had known him for about ten seconds, and already she did not like him even a little. He had a look in his eye that really bugged her. It was a look of blatant disbelief.

"Yes, it is, but I'd like to hear it from you if you don't mind."

She did mind. Very much. But what choice did she have? The entire time she was sitting there telling him her story, she felt like he was judging her; like he didn't believe a word that was coming out of her mouth despite the fact that Cynthia was one room over telling them everything that she had been through which would corroborate one hundred percent with what she was saying herself.

After what felt like days of him asking her the same questions over and over and her repeating herself what seem much more than an adequate number of times, the skeptical detective to finally accept that her story was not going to change more to his liking. He tossed his pen down on the table in front of him and leaned back in his chair.

"So, this Rippner character is the one who set you up a while back with the misile launch at the Lux?" He said.

Lisa lifted her head from where it had dropped to the table and nodded wearly at him, her eyes puffy and red from sleep deprivation.

"And then he came after you again?"

"Uh-huh." Lisa said over a yawn. She didn't want to be there anymore. She was just telling him the same story she had told the cops who had found her at the scene, only they had received her a little more warmly than he was. She wanted to go home and take a shower to clean away the layers upon layers of blood that were slathered across her usually creamy skin. Then, she wanted to snuggle into her couch with a cup of coffee, safely locked up in her apartment where no one could get to her.

"Why does this Rippner guy want you so bad?" Haggarty asked.

Lisa glared up at him, "Ask him."

Haggarty finally got a clue. "All right. I think we've got all we need from you, Ms. Reisert. We'll be in touch if we need anything further. Would you like a police escort home in case this guy comes back for more tonight?"

Lisa thought for a long moment and then shook her head with a sort of somber smile tinting her lips, "No, I don't think that that'll be necessary. Besides, seeing the police with me would just piss him off."

"Well, I'd like to send one with you just in case. I mean, you never know do you?" Haggarty went on.

"Wanting to keep an eye on me, detective?" Lisa quipped.

"Just in case." Haggarty said, "Just in case he shows up."

"Really," Lisa said, her voice sounding small and far away, the way a voice can get after the person has suffered a great loss, "there's no need to worry about me. He won't come after me again."

It was nearly seventeen hours before she had been released from police custody and allowed to go home. Seventeen hours sitting in an uncomfortable bright orange plastic chair wrapped only in a stiff itchy blanket, sipping bad sludge disguised as coffee, and wishing like hell that she had taken up smoking when she was younger just so that she could have had something to do with her hands. The entire time that she was being questioned, all she could think about was where Jackson had gone and when the next time she would see him would be.

Over the next few weeks, the police would trace Lawsard's credit cards and find that he did in fact place an order for a dozen long stemmed white roses to be sent to one Lisa Reisert. They would discover the evidence that he had in fact murdered his wife. They would find that the fingerprints on Jackson's knife handle brought up a dozen or so red flags with Interpol, but no real matches and that the matching blade was embedded in the third victim's leg. And as for the way that that victim had died; it took the ADA, a woman in her early forties with a no nonsense face and frightening chestnut eyes that bore into anyone she looked at, about two seconds to look over the case file, laugh, point out that Lisa's life had clearly been in serious jepardy and that there was no way she would ever get a conviction and dismiss the case. The assistant district attorney, Leslie Cates, was also quick to point out to detective Haggarty that he should be focusing his energy on finding the fifth person who was in that room and not on harassing Lisa. Lisa had liked Mrs. Cates but she would not hang around the woman long because she had the feeling that she could tell that she was hiding something. Lisa was afraid that if she were around Mrs. Cates for a prolonged period of time, the woman would be able to see right through her.

Plus, it had been over a month and she had still not heard anything from Jackson. With every day that passed, she grew more and more concerned for his wellbeing. Where was he? Was he safe? Was he thinking of her as much as she was thinking of him? Did he even want to see her? She didn't know the answers and what was worse was that she had no way of finding out.

**Author's Note: **This is not the end. It kind of has a feeling of finite to it, I know but it is not the last chapter. Let me know what you think, kay!


	10. Chapter Nine: Is This the End?

**Author's Note: **Thanks for so many reviews, everyone! Here's the next chapter of this story and be sure to let me know what you think. I can't tell you how thrilled I am that you all seem to be enjoying it so much. I don't want to ramble on too much because I don't really want to give anything that I plan on doing next away, so I'll just get to the story...

Rashida- I just saw that it didn't let me tell you where I got my _On the Edge _DVD at. I said Amazondotcom. Maybe it'll show that.

P.S. Be warned! I'm not going to tell you what to be warned of, but just...Be Warned!

**Chapter Nine: Is This the End?**

It had been six months and Lisa's life had returned to the mundane routines of the day to day. And she had yet to hear from Jackson. It seemed wrong to her that afte so much had happened, after she had killed a man, her life had quite literally gone right back to normal...just as Jackson had said that it would. She sat there in her sweats on her sofa, as she had done so many times before, nibbling every so often on a piece of grilled chicken and watching the latest movie on the _Lifetime _channel. She was moping around over a certifiable sociopath...it would have been funny had it not been so damned depressing. Her life should have been made into one of those _Lifetime _original movies. They could call it something like _I Fell In Love With My Would Be Assassin _and cast Tori Spelling to play her. She could see the ratings now.

Disgusted with herself, she poured herself a glass of wine and went to draw herself a very deep, very hot bath. Maybe if she could just lie and soak for a while, life wouldn't seem quite so sad when she emerged. It was a long shot, but she had nothing else. So, she sank into the tub, losing herself in the sweet scent of lavender and the way her bath oils made her skin feel wonderfully silky and slick. She had turned off the lights, using only three lit candles for lighting, so the room was very dim, and with the incredibly soothing sounds of Mozart flowing from her stereo, she managed to close her eyes and let all of the tension escape from her body, if only for a little while. But when her eyelids dropped, she saw Jackson's crystal blue eyes, staring into hers with heat and passion, the way that he had looked at her in the security room of the hotel. She could almost smell his cologne, taste his soft lips, feel the fire that his touch had set in the pit of her stomach. Before she realized what had happened, she found that her hand had slipped below her stomach and she was...or she was about to. But she jerked back into reality so quickly that she snapped up into a sitting position, sloshing water from the bathtub all over her tiled floor and extinquishing all but one of the candles. She braced her elbow on her knee and dropped her forehead into her hand with a sigh. She really, truly, and desperately needed to seek some professional help.

She rested her head once again back against the edge of the tub and closed her eyes. As she started to relax, she thought that she heard a noise come from the kitchen. She didn't even bother to open her eyes though, because she knew that it was just her imagination playing tricks on her...or actually, she had a funny feeling that it more closer to wishful thinking.

After a while, she climbed out of the bath and wrapped herself into a towel before grabbing a second towel and dropping to her knees to wipe up the mess that she had made. After that, she crawled into her pajamas and slipped into bed...alone.

Morning came too soon and Lisa had slept a hard, restless sleep. She awoke to the sound of her alarm, groggy and in a bad mood. But, being the soldier that she was, she got up, washed her face, brushed her teeth, curled to ends of her hair into a gentle wave, and fixed her make up. She stepped into a light blue dress suit and a pair of closed toe high heels chosen for the comfort. She poured her coffee into a car-friendly mug, slipped a light jacket over her shoulders and walked out the door on her way to another long day. She was bombarded with a head rush of thoughts as she steered her car out onto the highway. Was this really her life? At twenty-seven, was this really all that she had going for her? Not wanting to hear her own answers, she turned up the radio and started to sing along to Sheryl Crow who apparently just seemed to want to have some fun.

No sooner had she stepped from the back room than everything that could go wrong, went wrong and it all came crashing down around her. There was a little league hockey team practicing their slapshots in the middle of the tenth floor hallway, a suspicious husband had shown up unannounced at his wife's room and caught her in bed with her twenty-three year old assistant and the two of them were duking it out on the thirteenth floor, there was an accountants' convention lounging around in the bar, leaving practically no room for anybody else and talking so loudly that the few guests that could get in were complaining about them, and just thrown in as an extra bonus, the employees' bathroom was flooded. Now the only thing someone needed to do was defecate in the heated indoor swimming pool and her day would be complete.

There were several different points throughout the day that Lisa caught herself just spacing out, thinking about Jackson. About his eyes, his hands, his body, his tongue...and then she would snap herself out of it and realize that she had been standing in front of a guest with her mouth hanging open for five minutes. She would quickly mumble an apology and get back to her job. She had never let herself be this distracted at work before in her life and that was saying a lot considering what all had happened to her over the past few years. But here lately, all she could manage to think about was Jackson.

That night, Lisa wasn't even sure how late it was, Cynthia and her were sitting at the front counter, thanking God that they were being granted a moment's peace. Cynthia had just booked a rude customer into a top floor suite and griped about how all the rich people were assholes, but Lisa didn't hear her. She was lost inside of her own mind. Suddenly, she spotted a familiar form coming towards the front desk. She instantly recognized him by his scraggily blond hair and slacker surfer boy attitude. He carried a large bouquet of long stemmed white roses. She felt her stomach jump into her throat and her heart started beating hard resonating thumps against her chest. The delivery boy came up to the counter and slammed his clipboard down in front of her. The vapid expression on his face told her that not only was he stoned, but he didn't remember who she was.

"Delivery." he said, his voice drawing out the 'live' part.

"Do you have a room number?" Lisa asked, unable to keep her voice from trembling at the inclination that the flowers might be for her.

"Nah. All I got's a name." he said.

"And that is?"

Surfer boy picked up his clipboard to get a better look at it. "Cynthia Miller."

Cynthia looked up, her expression clearly showing her surprise. "Me?"

"You Cynthia Miller?"

"Yes."

"That I guess it's you." The boy quipped, his stoner voice oozzing with sarcasm.

Lisa snatched the clipboard from his hand, signed it, and thrust it back at him with a huge smile. "You can go now." She said, her voice a little too chipper.

With a roll of his storm cloud grey eyes, surfer boy strutted out of the lobby in the manner of a rock star on an ego trip. Cynthia gleefully smelled her flowers as she pulled the small rectangular card from its envelope.

"Who are they from?" Lisa asked.

Cynthia looked at her with a huge smile on her face, "Rick! Rick sent me flowers!"

"Rick? The sexy guy who took you to dinner last week, Rick?"

Cynthia nodded.

"And then spent the night at your apartment?"

Cynthia nodded again, even more enthusiastically if that was even possible.

"Do you realize how lucky you are?" Lisa said shaking her head.

Cynthia grinned and yet again nodded her head while burying her nose into the bud of one of her roses. Lisa couldn't remember the last time she had felt so jealous. Cynthia was able to go out and go to dinner with a normal guy and have a life and Lisa was too busy sitting at home and moping around about Jackson Rippner.

"Do you know how long it's been since I've had sex?" Lisa said bluntly.

Cynthia looked up from her flower wide eyed, her cheeks flushing to a bright red color. "Lisa!"

"Four years." Lisa said.

The red head's mouth dropped open, "Really? Wow."

"I mean, that's sick, right? It's not natural. It's unhealthy."

"Well..."

"That's not normal, is it?"

"You've been through a lot these last couple of..."

"Four years, Cynthia! Four!"

"Um..."

"Don't make excuses for me." Lisa said, a sad smile of her face, "My dad keeps sending me these self help books and my mom had offered to pay for me to see a shrink. I don't need that from you. I just want you to be my friend and listen to me when I bitch."

"Leese," Cynthia said with a comforting smile, "Go home. Get some sleep. You've been here for fifteen hours straight. Tomorrow night, we'll go out for drinks and we'll talk about anything you want to, but tonight go and get some rest. I think you need it."

"Yeah," Lisa said, unable to believe the things that she had just said to poor Cynthia, "Yeah, I think that you're right. I'll, um...I'll see you tomorrow."

"Okay." Cynthia said, rubbing a soothing hand over Lisa's arm.

Lisa walked blankly out to her car. She was just sort of dazed and tuned out; she may as well have been the walking dead for all the attention that she was paying to her surroundings. She slid behind her steering wheel and vigorously rubbed at her eyelids with the tips of her fingers. She was aghast at the way that she had behaved herself at work today. It had been, in a word, appalling. In another word, unprofessional. She sniffled and wiped a bit of water from her eyes before turned the key in the ignition.

Since she had gotten off of work two hours early, she decided to go to the grocery store and get the errands that she had been neglecting to do for the past week out of the way. As she wheeled her buggy down the aisles, mindlessly putting random objects into the cart, she found that she had little desire to eat anything that she put her hands on. It was simply from necessity rather than appetite that she bought anything at all. There were maybe three other people in the whole store due to the late hour and Lisa suddenly found herself feeling very vulnerable and exposed, as though her awareness had just kicked back in after being turned off for the majority of the day. Someone was watching her. She released her cart and turned in a full circle, her heart leaping into her throat.

"Jackson?" she asked the empty aisle.

A short, white haired lady wheeled a squeaky cart past, flashing Lisa a grandmotherly smile as she did. Lisa returned the gesture and turned back to her own buggy. She was losing her mind. Jackson was not coming back.

And what would she do if he did? Fall into his arms and live happily ever after? No. She and Jackson weren't meant to have the fairytale ending. They didn't seem to be meant to even have a beginning. After that, she felt like every person she passed by in the store, all four of them, was gawking at her; like they could see inside of her head and knew what it was that she was thinking. She hurried to checkout where the cashier, a young man who was maybe seventeen...it had to be past his bed time, he still had acne for crying out loud...took his sweet precious time ringing up her items. He fianlly told her what her total was and she swiped her debit card through the little machine and stealthily avoided any conversation with the boy. She then grabbed her bags and literally trotted out of the store and back to her car.

The drive back to her apartment seemed to last all of two seconds and Lisa found herself jsut sitting in her car after she had parked it in her garage. She sat there staring at the elevator and physically dreading the idea of going up and into her empty apartment. But, with a shuddering breath, she gathered her groceries and made her way to the elevator. She unlocked her door and nudged it open with her hipm, tossing her keys on the end of the counter as she always did and lugged the bags into the kitchen.

After she finished putting away the last of the groceries, she started debating on what TV show to watch. Peeling off her dress coat and flipping on the light to the living room, she was brought to a halt at what she saw. Lounging on her couch as though he belonged there, holding a glass of scotch in one hand and the other holding out a glass of red wine in offering to her, grinning as though he were the devil himself was Jackson.

Lisa didn't say anything. She walked slowly over to him, letting her jacket drop from her arms to the floor. She took the glass of wine from his hand, downed it in one swig and set the glass down on her coffee table. She watched Jackson take a small sip of his scotch, waited patiently for him to lower it from his lips, then reared back and slapped him right across his gorgeous mouth.

Jackson touched his middle finger to his mouth and wiped the small trickle of blood away from his lower lip with a smile. He looked up at Lisa, who was glaring down at him with her jaw clenched. He stood up from the couch and ran his tongue slowly and deliberately over his bottom lip, stepping toward her, using his height advantage, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he approached her. The corners of Lisa's tightly stretched lips suddenly turned upward. "Where've you been?" she asked him.

Without waiting for him to answer, she grabbed him by the back of the head and pulled him to her, immediately sucking his bleeding bottom lips into her mouth and biting down on it. Jackson took her by the upper arms and backed her, rather roughly, against the wall, returned the kiss with just as much if not more passion that Lisa. His arms went around her waist as the stumbled into the bedroom. Jackson kicked off his shoes and Lisa more or less tripped out of her own, both of them struggling not to break contact with each other. Jackson shrugged out of his jacket just as Lisa ripped his shirt open, sending buttons flying all across the room. Jackson's fingers fumbled to undo the zipper at her lower back, finally getting it and letting her skirt slide from her hips into a puddle around her feet, which she effortlessly stepped out of. He wanted to drink in the taste of her, the smell of her. He had thought of nothing but this moment since he had left her there at the hotel. She had plagued his every thought, dream, and breath for six months. Every step he had taken since that day had been one more step on his way back to her. The edge of the bed hit the back of her knees and she fell to her bottom with a bounce on the mattress. Jackson bent forward so as not to break the kiss, but he soon straightened in order to peel his under shirt up over his head at the same time Lisa went to work on his belt buckle.

His pants fell away from his trim waist and Lisa took a second for herself to admire him. Every lean sinew muscle smooth and hard as though he could have been sculpted. She smiled up at him, chewing on her lower lip. Boxer briefs. Very nice. He leaned in to kiss her again and Lisa shuffled away from him with a giggle, forcing him to chase her across her queen sized bed. After all, it was the chase that really excited them both. He caught her by the ankle and pulled her to him, sliding his hands slowly upward, exploring her body much in the reverse fashion that he had done that day he had had her tied to the bed. Apparently, he liked the catch just as much. Lisa didn't struggled against him, but instead used her hands to pull him to her, nestling her hips tighter against his own. She kissed his cheek and then rubbed her own against it, relishing in the scratchy feel of his rough stubble against her soft skin. She trailed several kisses along his neck, when she reached its center, she licked at the small circular scar just below his Adam's apple, a strange and perverse pride and excitement surging through her veins as she did so. Jackson forced her to face him by pulling on the hair at the back of her head and then kissed her again, tugging at her lips with his teeth and settling his hands at her neck, his thumbs resting on her jaw line.

Lisa couldn't believe that he was real and that he was there with her. She didn't want to let go of him, afraid that he would disappear if she did. If she was dreaming, she willed herself to never wake up. She clung to him, soaking up the feeling of his warm skin pressed against hers but it still didn't feel close enough. She wanted more. She needed more. Jackson abruptly broke their kiss, his hand jerking the thin cotton material of her tank top up to her chest as he lowered himself to kiss her flat belly. He ran his tongue along the area around her navel and then went lower still as he bit down hard on her hips. Lisa's hand went to his soft hair, tugging on the unkempt tufts. In a flash, he was back eye level with her and something in his eyes had changed. Where they had always seemed calm and stoic, that is when they weren't in a murderous rage, they now seemed hungry, impassioned, out of control. It was thrilling to know that she did that to him.

Jackson wanted to see her...all of her. He rose to his knees and pulled her to into a sitting position allowing him a more effective angle with which to remove her shirt. He then unclasped her bra and flung it aside, his fingers immediately hooking into the sides of the black lacy panties she wore...his favorites, but she didn't know that. Lisa lifted her hips to oblige him and he slid them with ease down her smooth legs. He looked down at her naked form, her shining auburn hair fanned out around her head, the rich color a drastic contrast to the white pillowcase and that was it for him. He shed his briefs and in one fluid motion...he was complete.

Lisa felt whole again for the first time since she could remember. Jackson was inside of her, moving at first in a slow steady rhythm because they were both uncertain as to how the other would react, but soon enough their passion for one another got the best of them. Their movements quickened along with their breaths as Jackson began thrusting harder and harder, driving into her, losing himself in the feel of Lisa around him. Lisa's nails dug into her back, her teeth sinking into his shoulder. One of Jackson's hands gripped Lisa's throat, not squeezing but not relaxed. His other roamed freely, caressing whatever part of her body caught his eye at that second.

They tossed and turned through the bed, rolling around as though they were a thunder storm. Jackson bit her, Lisa pulled his hair. Jackson hovered over her, her legs locked behind his back. Lisa sat on top of him, her fingers leaving red marks along his chest from the force with which she bore down. It was the release they had both been craving since the moment she had thanked him for stepping in on the arguement with the rude passenger in front of them in the checkin line at the airport. He was the only thing that could fulfill her life and she was the only place he had ever found solace. Their need for each other, their connection, their attraction, their...love...whatever it was, it was strong enough to overpower any fear that may have still remained between them on either side. Lisa had been afraid of him...and Jackson had been afraid of what she meant to him. He cared for her, she was the only thing he really cared about, and that meant only bad things for her and he knew it. But it was out of his hands anymore. It was her decision. If she wanted him, then he wanted more than anything to be with her.

They lay in each other's arms, both breathing heavily, just into one another's eyes. Jackson was trembling and Lisa snuggled closer to him. She kissed his chin and looked up at him.

"I have to ask you something." She said.

Jackson groaned in protest.

"It's very important to me." She pleaded.

He nodded his head, giving her the go ahead to ask him whatever it was that she needed to.

"Is Jackson Rippner your real name?" She asked.

Jackson chuckled from deep in his throat. "Yes." He said.

"So, you really never lied to me?" She asked.

"No. I didn't." Jackson responded seriously, looking dead into her eyes.

"So," Lisa started, her voice hesitant, "did you really kill your parents?"

Jackson suddenly laughed. His laughed so hard that his entire body shook from it. "Oh, Lord." He said, "No. _That _was a joke. I never even knew my parents."

"Oh." Lisa said, breathing a sigh of relief and her body losing tension that she hadn't even realized had been there.

Jackson laughed at her, "Were you really worried about that?"

Lisa nodded. "Terrified."

They both laughed for a long time until Lisa drifted off to sleep, feeling safe in Jackson's arms. He watched her as she slept, tracing his thumb over her pouting lips and drawing a small smile from them, then stroking her cheek. He knew every curve of her face. It was emblazoned in his memory; had been since the first day he had seen her. He had know then that she would be different but he hadn't been willing to admit it even to himself. There was something about Lisa and her goodness...he couldn't explain it. She was so utterly different from him in every conceivable way and it intrigued him to no end. She could be so strong and so vulnerable all at once. She was truly a rare find.

The next morning, Lisa woke up in a mess of tangled sheets. Her muscles were stiff and she was aching from between her legs. The soreness made her blush. The pillow beside her was empty and cold. She held the sheets tight across her chest and wandered through the apartment.

"Jackson?" she called.

No answer.

She went to the living room and kitchen. He wasn't there. She went into the bathroom. He wasn't there either. The realization hit her heavily in the chest so hard that she had to sit down right there in the middle of her bedroom floor. He had left again. He was gone. She must have sat there for a half an hour, like a little wounded bird, crying into a fistful of sheets. She finally pulled herself together and made her way into the bathroom where she examined her body in the mirror. She was covered in bruises. There were bite marks on her hips and collarbone. Her lips were still swollen and tender and she could still practically feel him inside of her. Fresh tears came, but she wiped them away determined not to let anymore fall. She dropped the sheet in the middle of the bathroom floor and slipped into her robe then padded into the kitchen where she found a fresh pot of coffee already made and waiting for her...and on the counter in front of it was a letter.

_It's up to you now, Leese. Is this the end? _

**Author's Note: **Well?


	11. Epilogue

**Author's Note: **A million thank you's for all of the reviews! Please don't hate me!

**Epilogue:**

One year later...

Lisa sat at the counter of the dingy smoke filled bar, nursing her seabreeze and trying to rub the strain of the day from her temples with the tips of her manicured fingers. The place was a real dive. The counter top of the bar looked as though it hadn't been cleaned since the mid fifties and was caked in layers of dust, cigarette ashes, and the sticky remnants of spilled liquor. There was obnoxious music blaring so loudly that she could not even hear her own thoughts. It came from a jukebox that sat oh so conveniently beside the restrooms, which in and of themselves had to violate about ten different health code regulations. It was definitely not the type of place that Lisa normally matriculated but today most certainly constituted as special circumstances. It had been another interesting day filled with surprises that a lesser person than herself probably wouldn't have been able to handle. That wasn't her being conceited, it was just the truth. She had been there for about fifteen minutes when a handsome, tall blond man sidled up to her and slid onto the barstool next to her.

"You look like you need another." He said.

Lisa peered at him from the corner of her eye, "And apparently I look like I need you to tell me that."

"Rough day?" he asked.

"Is it obvious or are you just trying to impress me with you mind reading skills, because let me tell you...it's been done. Try a different approach."

"Who read your mind?"

Lisa took a long sip of her seabreeze before replying, "A guy predicted what my drink of choice was."

"Did he get it right?"

"He did."

"Clever guy."

Lisa laughed and rolled her eyes. Yes. Jackson certainly was a clever guy. It helped him out that he had been stalking her for eight weeks previous, but he was clever nonetheless. She'd been a damned fool for not trying to find him after that note, but she had been so angry. Who the hell did he think he was to just up and leave her in the middle of the night like that? The blond looked at her with a mischievous glint in his eye. He was certainly good looking in his sharp expensive designer suit, gelled blond locks, and big round brown eyes. How did she always manage to attract these guys? Did she have a stamp in her forehead that said, 'perfect for shallow egotistical pricks'? Jackson hadn't been shallow though. Jackson had connected with her on a deeper, sometimes scarier, level. He knew her better than anyone...and she was almost certain that she knew him just as well. Most people would say something like, how well can you really know a person like him? But, she did. She knew him.

"So, can I get you another drink or no?" the blond asked her, breaking her from her thoughts of Jackson.

Lisa chewed on her bottom lip in consideration and then nodded her head. What would the harm be in allowing him to buy her one seabreeze? He looked like he could afford it.

"Uh, bartender," he said, "She'll have another and I'll have a vodka martini. I'm Greg, by the way."

"Lisa." She responded, shaking his proffered hand.

"So, with the risk of sounding cliche', do you come here often?" he said, his smile big and cheesy.

Lisa laughed into the drink the bartender had just set in front of her, "Uh, no. No, I...this is my first time."

"Yeah. Mine too. Just in town for a little business."

"Oh? What do you do?"

"I'm a lawyer. You?"

"I'm in management." She smiled at her own joke that he didn't stand a chance in hell at understanding. "So, you're a lawyer, huh?"

"Yes, indeed."

"Can you help me with my parking tickets?"

"No. Sorry, I'm not that kind of lawyer."

"Then, I'm not impressed." Lisa grinned.

"Well, hell." Greg said, "What does it take to impress a girl like you?"

Lisa considered her answer for a long moment and she was just tipsy enough to be blunt. "A strong mouth." She said.

"Well, let's see if I make the cut." Greg smirked and without waiting for Lisa to give to him her permission, he leaned forward and took her mouth in his. To say that Lisa was taken aback would have been an understatement. Exactly who did this guy think he was? He had sat down beside her less than five minutes ago and he thought that he had the right to just invade her space in such a way! Lisa put both hands to his chest and shoved him away from her, mouth open in affront. But, her offended look soon melted away and was replaced by a wide, bright smile that made her gorgeous eyes light up for all the world to see.

"Well, Mr. Kilmore," she chirped, "by strong mouth I actually meant someone who was opinionated and unafraid to speak their mind and what you just did seemed unnecessary, but in all honesty it suited my purposes just fine."

Greg leaned back away from her, "How did you know my last..."

"I do have a question for you though. Does your wife know that you go around to bars when you're out of town on business trips and pick up women?"

"Hi, kids!" said an enthusiastic voice, drawing Greg's attention. "Name's Jackson, how you doin' friend?"

Jackson slid onto the stool on the other side of Lisa and kissed her cheek. She beamed up at him before they both turned in perfect synchronization to face Greg, who seemed more than a little put off by Jackson's sudden appearance.

"What's going on here?" Greg demanded.

"What's going on, Greg, my boy, is that I now have a digital camera in my pocket with a picture of you kissing my lovely wife here, which just for the record," his eyes traveled to Lisa, "in my opinion lasted a little too long."

Lisa shrugged and downed her drink just as the bartender set a scotch neat down in front of Jackson. "Awe, honey." he said.

"I knew you'd be along eventually." Lisa said, puckering her lips and waiting for her reward. Jackson leaned forward with a grin and kissed her then turned his focus back to Greg. He and Lisa switched stools, giving Jackson better access to their target.

"Now, as I was saying, what would your lovely wife, Linda say if she saw these pictures?" Jackson said, shaking his head.

"This is blackmail." Greg accused.

"I hate that word. It sounds so petty." Jackson said with a distasteful look on his face, like he had just taken a bite of something really rank.

"It really does." Lisa asgreed.

"We prefer to think of it as..." a wide grin spread across his full pretty lips, "negotiations."

"What do you want?" Greg asked, "Money?"

"Do I look that shallow?" Jackson asked, then turned to Lisa, "Are we that shallow?"

"Don't know. How much does he have?" Lisa responded.

Jackson turned back to Greg, "Good point, how much do you have? Nah, wait, no. That's not what we're here for. Sorry about that, she distracts me so easily. Women, right."

"Yeah." Greg said unenthusiastically.

"All I need you to do...is call up your friend Jonathan Brickman and change that account number, you know the one I'm referring to, from 39745284 to 48503958. Understand?"

"Yes." Greg said and pulled his cell phone from his pocket. As he started mumbling into his phone, Jackson turned his attention to Lisa.

"So, for dinner, I'm thinking Greek." He said.

"You want me to make hummus again?" Lisa groaned.

"You make it so well." Jackson smiled and kissed her, "It's your fault, you know. You spoil me."

"I wanted to call out for Thai and rent a movie." Lisa whined.

"There's nothing good out."

"So, we'll get an old movie."

They had attracted Greg's interest and Jackson motioned for him to keep talking before continuing his conversation with his wife. "I am not sitting through _Breakfast at Tiffany's _again." He said.

"Holly Golightly is the greatest female character in the history of cinema."

"I desperately want to shove you into a room filled with _Gone With the Wind _fans. I think it'd be a real blood bath."

"What do you want to watch, then?"

"How about _Collateral_?"

"They're not going to change the ending, you know. He's still going to lose. Every time."

"Pessimist."

"Realist." Lisa corrected.

"He was bad at planning."

"You'd have done it differently." Lisa said, smiling as though she were talking to a little boy rather than a grown man.

"You know how I would have done it." Jackson quipped, tickling her side.

"Okay, okay! Why don't we just get _Jaws _or something?" Lisa offered once she had managed to stop giggling.

"_Jaws _is good." Jackson said just as Greg hung up his phone, "There now, that wasn't so hard, was it?"

"Whatever. Can I have the pictures now?" Greg asked.

"Well, you see, they're still on my camera. But you have my word that I will erase them as soon as I get the word from my higher ups that the job had really been done."

"That isn't fair." Greg said sounding no older than five.

"Neither is life." Jackson said, downing his drink and standing. He offered his arm to Lisa. "Leese?"

Lisa smiled sweetly at Greg as she stood and took her husband's arm. "Bye, Greg." she cooed and the two of them strolled happily out of the bar.

Lisa's life finally felt whole again. She never would have guessed that the emptiness that she had been feeling had been the lack of...well, her husband. The brutally honest, damned clever, quick witted, and incredibly dangerous, not to mention gorgeous, Jackson Rippner. It had taken her a while to adjust to the lifestyle, but he was well worth it. The night that he had made his returned into her life was burned into her memory. She had been walking out of the hotel having just gotten off of work and there he had been, leaning casually against her car, that devil-may-care grin on his face. She remebered the way her stomach had flip-flopped at just the mere sight of him. He'd been twirling a single daisy between his fingers, which he looked down at, then he had looked at her from the tops of his eyes as he said, "You never answered my question." And just like that she had been in his arms. She hadn't even realized at the time that she had moved, but she had run to him and embraced him and attacked his mouth with her own. He had taken her keys from her and driven her back to her apartment where he had followed her in. He had had some fresh scars on his body, she had discovered. But she never asked about them and he never offered the information. It was as if they had both known that it would only succeed in upsetting Lisa, and neither of them wanted to ruin their reunion with unpleasant thoughts like that. When Lisa woke up the next morning, he had been there. He had been awake, looking down at her with the amazing eyes of his and a ready smirk. "That sure as hell wasn't a quickie." he had said and she had laughed. She remembered how well she had liked it when she woke up beside him.

Jackson locked his arm around the slim waist of his wife. His _wife._ He loved that word. The entire time that he had been ducking contract killers and F.B.I agents, she had been the only thing that had been on his mind. Where was she? How was she? When would he be able to get back to her? He had finally managed a deal with the former employers who wanted him dead that he would work for them twice at a fraction of his usual cost, satisfaction garanteed. Once he was no longer concernced for his life, his first order of business had been to get back to Lisa. When she had come from work to him there at her car that night, she wasn't shocked, she wasn't scared, she had just stared at him for a moment, tired and beautiful. Then, she had rushed over to him and thrown her arms around his neck and kissed him fiercely. That was when he had known that that was where he belonged for the rest of his life. With Lisa. He had married her no more than two months later. Her father, one of the few people who knew who he really was and where she had actually met him, had not been happy about their union...but in the end all that he wanted was for Lisa to be happy. Jackson had convinced himself that the old man would come around. He liked Joe and Lisa refused to not have him in her life. Jackson and Lisa went great together. They fought like cats and dogs and neither one of them was willing to give an inch, but oddly enough that was half of what made their relationship work. There wasn't anything they wouldn't do for each other. Jackson knew that having someone like her in his life was a liability in his line of work and logically, he should have put as much distance between her and himself as he could. But, in all honesty, they made a damn good team and let's face it, when it came to Lisa, all of his male driven logic didn't really apply.

"I've got a secret for you." Lisa said.

"Oh, yeah? What is it?"

"Nothing." she said with a sly smile, "Let me rent _Breakfast at Tiffany's _and I'll do that thing you like with the handcuffs."

"You know, Holly Golightly is the greatest female character in the history of cinema." Jackson said with a grin, inhaling the scent of Lisa's hair as she laid her head on his shoulder with a feminine little giggle that Jackson adored. Nope. No logic whatsoever.

**The End**

**Author's Note: **All stories have an ending, and this is this one's. However, I do have an idea for a sequel...so if you think I should continue...let me know!


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